


Cross the Plains

by Ecaus12



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: American Civil War, Angst, F/F, Historical AU, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-10-03 11:16:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17283023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ecaus12/pseuds/Ecaus12
Summary: Nicole Haught is a young woman in 1861. The War Between the States has broken out and Nicole has a choice to make:Stay at home and do what is expected of her, or fight for what she believes in.When she joins the Union Army she pretends to be Nicolas Haught, a farm boy from northern Wisconsin.When the war ends for her she has to figure out what to do with herself. The last thing she wants to do is go back to being a proper lady. Even in the wilds of Northern Wisconsin, the pressures on young women are high.That's when Nicole is offered a job too good to resist, navigating the barren Canadian plains n search of fugitive confederates.After years on the move, she sets up shop in a small plains town called Purgatory.





	1. Chapter 1

            Nicole slipped out of the house quietly, knowing that if her mother so much as dreamed that she was doing what she was about to do she was a dead woman.  
The news of the War Between the States and the Union Army’s call for strong bodies had spread quickly, and Nicole was desperate to do something with her life other than have Arn Colburn’s babies like her parents wanted.  
            She shouldered her knapsack and double-checked that her hunting knife was on her hip. She slipped out the small window and quietly moved out to the barn. She prayed that her family wouldn’t be too mad that she was taking the old mare. She saddled her up as quietly as possible and led her down the road.  
            Nicole stopped and took out her knife and crudely cut her hair into a men’s haircut. At least, she hoped so, without something to see her reflection in it was hard to tell.  
She then started the roughly 150-mile trek to Madison. The Union army was rounding up recruits at Camp Randall.  
            Two days later she arrived on the outskirts of Camp Randall. She was tired and dirty. Her ragged look and the clothes she had taken from her brother helped her sell the deception.  
            She stood in line with the other potential volunteers. They shuffled forward, single file.  
            “What is your name?”  
            “Nicolas Raymond Haught,”  
            “How old are you?” The officer looked at Nicole with doubt. The boy in front of him had scraggly red hair and fair skin that was freckled by the sun.  
            “18, sir,”  
            “Doubtful,” He said, “Your voice hasn’t even dropped yet. You aren’t north of 16,”  
            “I’m 18 Sir, born January 5th, 1843,”  
            The officer looked Nicole up and down. There was no way that this boy was a man, but Nicole was tall and had the obvious muscle definition of someone who wasn’t a stranger to hard work.  
            “Ok,” The officer conceded, “but you better not suddenly remember you are 13,”  
            “No sir, Thank you, Sir,”

            And with that Nicole became “Nick Haught, Private of the 7th Wisconsin Infantry,”  
            Nicole found she liked being a soldier. There was law, order, and discipline. The setting made her thrive.  
            The only downside was it was difficult to hide who she was. Regardless, she successfully made it through the weeks of training and they headed out to the war.

 

            Nicole stood in a neat line in the forest with other men dressed in blue wool uniforms. They waited for their orders. The nerves had set-in; this was it, Nicole’s first battle. The pop of distant gunfire made her jump. The boy next to her was shaking. This was the closest most of them had been to battle thus far.  
            When ordered, Nicole’s line fired their carbines at the rebels across the field. At first, Nicole was horrified when she actually saw one of her soft lead bullets tear through a rebel soldier, but before the end of the battle, she grew to take pride in it.

 

            Nicole could hear the bullets whiz by. She was pinned down on a ridge with her fellow soldiers. The sound of cannon fire came from the west.  
            She tore open a cartridge and reloaded her gun and she popped up over the ridge again. She could make out the bobbing heads of Confederate soldiers on the move. She picked a target, squeezing the trigger. A small plume of smoke was quickly followed by the sight of a man falling to the ground.  
            By this point Nicole was seasoned. The taste of gunpowder in her mouth was not unfamiliar. The way her bayonet felt sliding into the chest of a Johnny Reb was well known. The stench of death was a fact rather than a shock.  
            She had survived the battle of Antietam. She had helped push the Confederates off of McPherson’s Ridge at Gettysburg.  
            That is not to say she didn’t still feel fear. Primal fear still ripped through her chest if death got too near her. The fear she will fall to the cannon shot, minie ball or a bowie knife was ever present. The fear of death followed you, it left all the soldiers with a hazy view of the future, as though it was far off and uncertain.  
But there was also the fear that she might come face to face with her eldest brother, Ansel, who had left home to fight for the South.  
            What would happen? Would they draw on each other? Or let the other pass with a knowing nod?  
            Or the greater fear that one of them might pick off the other sibling unknowingly. Maybe only finding out that the other had been there while looking for prisoners after the battle was won.  
            Nicole fixed her bayonet and charged forward with the rest of the men, hand to hand combat ensues. Fear was but the bedfellow you take home every night.

 

            It was in Gettysburg that she had seen her brother. Not the one she had feared seeing, but her other brother. David was 2 years her elder and had left just before her to join up.  
            They ran into each other at the end of the battle. She was helping clear bodies, a task the men all drew straws for.She was working on digging a mass grave. She looked up and saw a surprisingly familiar shape. She recognized how he walked before anything else. Then she saw his face. It was ragged, and he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days and looked thin, but it was unmistakably David.  
            She dropped the shovel and sprinted across the field to him.  
            “David!”  
            He turned and looked in surprise at the form running at him. She saw the moment he recognized her, his face lit up.  
            “Little Nicki!” he said, opening his arms and embracing her.  
            “I’m so glad to see you,” she said.  
            “I’m surprised to see you,” he said earnestly, “Mother wrote that you had run off, but had no idea where to or why,”  
            “I couldn’t sit by,” Nicole said.  
            “I guess I’m not terribly surprised by that,” the two walked away, to be by themselves. David was doing a good job to make sure it looked more like two brothers seeing each other after a long separation.  
            “How are you?” he asked.  
            “I am doing ok,” Nicole nodded, “I’ve been promoted to Sergeant,”  
            “Wow,” he took off his foraging cap and ran his hand through his dirty hair, “How are you… how haven’t they?”  
            She knew exactly what he was asking. She nodded, “It is easy to lie, surprising easily to avoid detection. I’m Sergeant Nicolas Raymond Haught to those men,”  
            “I’m so glad you are ok,” he sat down in the grass under a peach tree, “Where were you?”  
            “McPherson’s Ridge, we actually didn’t see too much,” she said.  
            “Little Round Top, it was hell,”  
            As they spoke they realized they had just managed not seeing each other before, having been in the same battles previously.  
            They didn’t have long together and had to part to continue their work.

 

            In the long engagement of Cold Harbor, one of Nicole’s fears came to light. The war was nearing the end and Nicole had begun to feel as though maybe she would leave physically unscathed.  
            But the searing pain her shoulder as she was lying against an embankment told a different story. Her breathing was uneven. She felt the wound, hot blood on her hand. A minie ball had torn an ugly hole in her flesh.  
She gritted her teeth, loading her gun. She was determined to fight.  
            She fired again.  
            Nicole tried to load her weapon one last time, but the world faded to black.

The next thing she knew she was waking up in a field Hospital. Colonel Robinson standing over her.  
            “Soldier, what is your real name?”  
            “What?” Nicole was confused, blinking sleep from her eyes and attempting to sit up, but the pain in her shoulder was too much.  
            The colonel took on a softer tone, and placed a hand on her shoulder, easing her back down on the cot.  
            “You were wounded, shot in the left shoulder. The surgeon removed the bullet. As long as you don’t succumb to infection you will be fine,”  
            Nicole breathed a sigh of relief.  
            “You can imagine the surprise the surgeon had when they undressed you, Sergeant Haught,”  
            Nicole looked away, unable to look the superior officer in the eye.  
            “What is your real name?”  
            Nicole paused for a second. Her instinct, hardened by 3 years of hiding, was to insist that she was Nicolas. But she knew it was no use.  
            “Nicole Rayleigh Haught,”  
            “Well Nicole,” he looked down, “You fought well. But unfortunately, I have to discharge you. Because of your valiant fighting, I won't court marshal you. You will get your last paycheck from the quartermaster and be sent home as soon as you are well. Thank you,”  
            Nicole saluted the ranking officer and he briefly saluted back.  
            So with that Nicole’s military career came to a close. She took her time heading here, seeing what she could see of the world on her way.  
She stopped at the home of a girl she had met during the war, who had offered her home to her during a furlough. But she knew she couldn’t stay. So once she had fully recuperated she had to head home.  
            She had spent a long time thinking about what going home would be like. She knew things couldn’t just go back to normal… she didn’t want that. She knew her welcome home wouldn’t be that of a hero. It would be that of a disgrace. As she traveled she could feel the dread build in her stomach. Would they even welcome her back? Or would they shun her?  
She stopped close to home to purchase some gifts for her family. She bought her father some new boots, her mother a stylish hair clip. She bought fresh meat and some flour and sugar. With the gifts in hand, she headed into town, down the familiar road to her parent's farm.  
            “Nicole Rayleigh Haught!” The stern voice called from the front porch as Nicole approached, leading her horse by the reigns.  
Benjamin, her youngest brother, came sprinting down the steps, nearly tackling her to the ground.  
            The contact sent a shooting pain in her nearly healed shoulder.  
            “Oh, careful Ben,” she said.  
            “Is it true you were a soldier?” He asked wide-eyed. The rumors had preceded her.  
            “Yes,” She kissed the top of his head.  
            Her mother walked down the steps. Nicole was surprised by how much older she looked. Having all of your adult children at war will do that.  
            “You left no note, wrote no letter. I only knew you were in that God forsaken war when David wrote to me after seeing you,”  
            Nicole looked down, “I am sorry Mother,”  
            David walked out of the house, “Nicki! You're home!” He smiled.  
            He looked healthier than when she had last seen him; full, dark beard on his full cheeks and bright eyes. The shirtsleeve on his left side was pinned up, the telltale look of veterans who had lost an arm.  
            “David,” Nicole said as she hugged him, “When did you come home?”  
            “I just barely beat you home. I was wounded at the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain. What sends you home?”  
            “I was shot at Cold Harbor in the shoulder. Got found out and mustered out,”  
            “I’m sorry, Nicole,” He said softly.  
            “What happened?” She asked. He knew that she was asking about his arm.  
            “Minie ball mangled it,” He shrugged.  
            Their mother wasn’t exactly sure what to do, so she ran inside to make lunch for them, muttering something along the lines of “Wait until your father gets home,”

Later that night David and Nicole sat out on the front porch. At her mother’s request she was in a blue patterned dress. It felt unnatural after so long in the wool army uniform.  
David gave Nicole a glass of whiskey.  
            “I always knew you were a strong kid, but I never thought you would become a soldier,” he said.  
            “I didn’t think so either. But after you and Ansel left, I couldn’t stand the thought of staying behind and sitting on my hands,”  
            “You are very brave,”  
            “Has anyone heard from Ansel?”  
            David looked into the stars, “He died at Vicksburg. It was while we were at Gettysburg and I had obviously not heard anything yet, or else I’d have told you. I didn’t find out until a couple months later. If I had known how to get you a letter, I would have,”  
            Nicole said a quick prayer, “May he rest in peace,” she took a drink.  
            “May he,” David raised his drink.

 

            Nicole’s homecoming didn’t last long. While she loved her family, she couldn’t stand trying to force herself into the role’s expected of her.  
Her parents were trying hard to distance her from her past, dispelling rumors around town that she had impersonated a man and fought in the war.  
            She was dismayed to find out that after all this time Arn Colburn hadn’t courted another girl. He picked up where he left off courting her, and her parents tried to push her towards it, worried that with her reputation she may not find another chance.

            A few months later a man named Xavier Dolls came to town. It was the talk of the town that a mysterious man had come from the south and was looking for none other than Nicole Haught.  
            Skeptically, she agreed to meet with him. She armed herself to make sure she didn’t fall victim to the stranger.  
            They met in the quiet tavern in the center of town and got a seat in the corner. The few other patrons of the establishment looked at them in both curiosity and judgment.  
            “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Haught,” He greeted her, a slight southern accent, “I’m special Deputy Marshal Dolls and I’m on a mission to recruit people like you,”  
            Nicole was still unsure what he was getting at, “People like me?”  
            He nodded, “Yes, people like you,” he set a Union Corps badge on the table, “And people like myself…”  
            “And what exactly do you want us for?”  
            “You are a woman of great zeal, gumption, and determination. You may correct me if I’m wrong, but you joined the war because you felt a strong moral desire to be on the right side of history, Along with a desire for freedom, for adventure,”  
            Nicole nodded, “You could say that,”  
            “At the conclusion of the war, a lot of Confederate cowards ran to the Canadian territories to avoid the consequences of their actions. While our government has taken a stand to not reprimand the rebels publicly… covertly they are seeking justice for their crimes. Prison guards, particularly cruel slave owners, and the worst of the officers and government officials,”  
            Nicole sat forward a bit, trying to not look too interested.  
            Dolls continued, “I work as a Special Agent for a Cross Border Task Force Division of the US Marshals. My job is to assemble a team to hunt them down. Essentially we will be working as bounty hunters. We get a stipend from the government but we will make the majority of our money form the bounties,”  
            “You want me to join your task force?” Nicole asked in disbelief.  
            “I feel as though you might feel the same way I do,” He leaned forward, “For us, the war was a rare taste of freedom and agency that people like ourselves are rarely afforded. And this is an opportunity for us to have that again,”  
            Nicole picked at the hem of her sleeve trying to process the offer in front of her.  
            “If you join me you will get to live as you wish, and continue to fight for justice,”  
            It didn’t take long for Nicole to agree to join him in Canada. Her options were limited.  
            “I will go with you,” Nicole nodded, “But I will need a few days to square stuff away,”  
            “But of course,” Dolls nodded. She still wasn’t sure if she should trust him, but on the table between them was a service badge and a US Marshal badge. Surely they aided his credibility.  
            Nicole spent the next few days collecting supplies and packing in secret. The day she was to leave with Dolls she loaded her cart with all of her supplies. She hitched it up to her horse she had bought off the US Army. She snuck back inside and woke her brother.  
            “David, I need to speak to you,”  
            “What’s going on?” he wiped the sleep from his eye.  
            “I’m leaving, at dawn, to go to Canada,” She said.  
            “What? Why?” He was confused. He sat up.  
            “You and I both know this is not the place for me,” She shook her head, “I will never be able to be who our parents want me to be. I was given an opportunity to continue to serve our country and I’m taking it,”  
            She could see a flash of jealousy in his eyes. He was jealous that she was going to get to keep fighting while he was forever unable.  
            “Don’t tell them,” He shook his head, “Father will do all he can to keep you here. Just go,”  
            He stood up and rifled through his belongings.  
            “Nicole, I love you dearly. Please be safe and write when you can,”  
            He grabbed Nicole’s hands, placing something in them, “Please cherish it, it had been sized for my left hand and doesn’t fit on my right. I had to retrieve it off my hand after the amputation,”  
            She looked in her hand and saw a simple silver band with a gold military shield on it. His initials and regiment were engraved on the front.  
            “You deserved one of these as much as I did. You fought bravely and valiantly and I’m sure you will do well in whatever you do,” he kissed her forehead before hugging her, “I will deal with Mother and Father,”  
            “Thank you, David. I love you,”  
            Nicole fed the ring onto the chain on her neck and it rested next to the silver identity band she had worn during the war.

            With that Nicole slipped out of the house, just as she had in 1861 and met Dolls on the edge of town.  
            “Agent Haught,” he greeted her, a rare smile on his face, “I have a gift for you,”  
            He handed her a US Marshal badge pinned to a rectangle of black leather. She held it in her hands, rubbing her thumbs over the soft leather.  
            “I got you something else,” He reached into his wagon. He opened what was unmistakably a hatbox, “I figured you may not have any hats other than a forage cap,”  
            He pulled out a new hat. It was a natural colored wool hat with a wide brim. Nicole took it in her hands and saw “Stetson” on the sweatband.  
            “This is too much. You must have spent a fortune on this,”  
            Dolls nodded, “Consider it my vote in confidence in you,”  
            She placed it on her head and it fit perfectly.  
            “Well, lets head out,”  
            They both mounted their horses and headed north to Canada.

 


	2. Chapter 2

             For 3 years Nicole and Dolls road across the Canadian territories hunting fugitives. With the exception of her brief time spent at home after the war, Nicole had been on the move for 6 years. The two agreed it was time to find a place to call home. They needed a place to rest, research and to gear up for their hunts.

            They settled on a town called Purgatory in the western plains. A former US Marshal lived there acting as the sheriff and there were multiple reports of fugitives in the area.

            They rode into the dusty old town on their leg weary horses in the early autumn. It was small but served as the central meeting place for everyone who lived in the Ghost River Triangle. It would do just fine.

            As they rode down main street a man in a wide-brimmed hat and a bushy mustache came out of the Sheriff's office and stopped the newcomers.

            “Woah there,” He raised his hand signaling them to stop, “What brings you two to purgatory,”

            Dolls took the lead, “I am Xavier Dolls, and this is Nicole Haught, we are special agents with the US Marshals Cross Boarder Task Force,”

            “I haven’t gotten any word of such people coming to my town,”

            “I am to assume you are the famous Wyatt Earp?” Dolls asked.

            “That is correct,”

            “You can wire Washington if you wish, they probably wont know we are here but will confirm we exist for you. My friend and I wish to call Purgatory home for the time being if that’s ok?”

            Wyatt looked them over. They both had Marshal badges pinned to their chests. But neither looked like any US Marshal he had ever seen.

            “I don’t want no trouble, ya hear?” Wyatt said gruffly.

            “We plan to do the opposite around here, Sir,” Nicole said.

            “And if you truly are US Marshals, I expect you two at my disposal if I need it, as the sheriff of this town,” Wyatt said again.

            “But off course. We would be happy to help,” Dolls assured.

            “Very well, let me know if you need anything,” Wyatt sighed and before either could say anything disappeared back into the building.

           

            Nicole had amassed a decent amount of money and bought a plot of land outside of town. In contrast, Dolls took up at a local boarding house.

            The first thing Nicole did was clear a portion of the plot for her new home. Cutting and splitting logs with just the help of Dolls, they built her home.

            The only neighbors she had were Wyatt Earp and his youngest niece. Wyatt had no children of his own, but had taken in the 3 daughters of his late brother Newton who died during the Civil War.

            Wyatt was skeptical of the supposed deputies. He had never heard of them, nor had he heard of any task forces in the area from his former colleagues. But he had little choice. He opted to keep a cautious eye on them as he continued to work as the Sherriff of the town. He was almost happy that Agent Haught had purchased the land down the road; it allowed him to keep a closer eye on them.

 

           

            The youngest Earp sister had been curious about the new neighbor and packed a housewarming gift before heading down the road.

            As she approached she could hear the unmistakable sound of hammering. She saw the tall women nailing slats down in men’s trousers and a buttoned blouse with the sleeves rolled up. Upon her head was a beat up, bent brim cowboy hat.

            Nicole heard footsteps between hammer falls. She stopped and looked out, wiping her face to see a slight girl in a slate grey dress holding a basket.

            “Hello,” Nicole shouted the greeting as she climbed down from the roof. She took a quick drink of water before approaching the women.

            Nicole took her hat off, pushing red strands of hair from her forehead.

            “Hello,” the girl said, “I’m Waverly Earp, the niece of Wyatt Earp. I just wanted to offer a housewarming gift,”

            She opened the basket, “I brought you some fresh bread and a jar of my famous jam,”

            Waverly offered the basket to Nicole.

            Nicole took the handle, brushing her hand against Waverly’s. She smiled softly.

            “Thank you,” Nicole’s smile revealed a dimple in her cheek and Waverly blushed slightly.

            “If you need anything, I’m happy to help you. I hope you are liking Purgatory so far,”

            “I am. Thank you for being so neighborly,” Nicole looked down, “I was just going to break for some lunch. I would love to share this bread and jam with you if you are so inclined,”

            “I would love to,” Waverly nodded enthusiastically.

            They sat on the makeshift porch and spread the jam on the bread.

            “So,” Waverly started, “What brought you to Purgatory?”

            “Work,” Nicole said simply.

            “What do you do for work?” Waverly asked. She had heard rumors around town. And a women living and working on her own was rare. The women sitting next to her was mysterious and of interest to Waverly.

            Nicole swallowed hard. Over the last couple years, it had been hard to conceal her identity and protect her loved ones.

            “I don’t really talk about what I do,” Nicole said.

            “I heard you are a Deputy US Marshal,” Waverly said.

            “That is true,”

            “But you don’t do what my Uncle used to?” Waverly pointed out again.

            “That is correct,” Nicole nodded.

            “Hmm, I’ll figure it out someday, Nicole Haught, one day,”

            Nicole turned serious for a moment, “I sincerely hope you never do,”

           

 

            Nicole rode her horse out to a nearby town. She stopped and pulled the Wanted poster out of her pocket and looked at the face. She was looking for Jared Roberts. A former Confederate Lieutenant. He had been a guard at Andersonville prison.

            Nicole eventually headed out on foot, as she got closer to where Roberts was supposedly camping out. She walked through a small patch of woods when she was evidence of an active camp. She checked the fire pit and could feel that it was still warm.            

            She found a vantage point and waited.

            Later in the day, she saw a man approach the camp. He had on a brass CSA belt buckle and was whistling Dixie. She checked the photo again. It was Roberts.

            He took a seat near the fire pit and Nicole lined up her shot.

            He was swiftly dispatched and she went down to the body. She prided the identification ring off his hand.

            “Hey, Jared,” A man’s voice called out.

            A tall man wearing a ragged CSA forage cap came into the clearing. It didn’t take the man long to realize what was happening. He quickly drew his bowie knife and rushed Nicole.

            She dodged the jab of his knife and drew her revolver shooting him dead.

            She breathed a sigh of relief and collected identifying pieces off the second man too. She buried the two men and cleaned up their camp.

            It was cold and calculating and a way of life now.

            She headed back to town and met Dolls at Shorty’s, the local watering hole.

            She passed off the identifying items to him after tying up her horse outside the tavern. They went inside and took a seat at the bar.

            Nicole was surprised to see Waverly behind the bar, serving drinks. Being a bar keep was not traditionally a role for a women, and being in a tavern was not usually something any well-respected lady did.

            “Hello you two,” She said.

            “Hello Ms. Earp,” Dolls greeted her.

            “What can I get for you?” Waverly asked.

            “A beer and shot of whiskey for each of us,” Nicole said.

            She handed over the drinks and collected the money Nicole placed on the table. The two drank quietly. In her 3 years with Dolls, he never spoke much. He kept his cards close to the vest and she had learned almost nothing personal about him. But she trusted him and respected him and she knew it was mutual.

            After the beer and whiskey was finished Dolls collected his hat and left. Nicole stayed at the bar, nursing the beer.

            “Another?” Waverly asked.

            “Ah,” Nicole thought about it, “Yeah, another shot of whiskey, please,”

            Waverly poured it. She studied the women in front of her. She was clearly not that old, but her face was weary. Her skin was clearly youthful, devoid of wrinkles or sunspots, but there were dark circles under eyes and a far away feeling to her face. She could see the weight of something on her shoulders. She passed off the glass to Nicole and refused the money Nicole tried to pass off.

            “Its on me,” She said.

            “Thank you,” Nicole held up the glass and downed the brown liquid.

            “Have you had a chance to meet anyone else from town yet?” Waverly asked as she polished the wood bar.

            “No, I haven’t. As a member of the law, I’ve found I tend to not be very welcome among the locals,”

            “You have traveled a lot then?”

            “Almost continuously for 6 years now,” Nicole nodded.

            “Well, in Purgatory the lines between good and bad, law and outlaw are a bit blurred,” Waverly admitted.

            “That sounds very Biblical,” Nicole nodded.           

            “For example, in the corner over there,” Waverly pointed discreetly, “The man in the gambler hat, that’s Doc Holiday. He’s the local dentist, he owns this bar, is an ace poker player and associates with the low of the low in this town. But he is also my Uncle’s best friend and right hand man,”

            The man had a cigarillo hanging from his lips and a hand of cards fanned in front of him.

            “Believe it or not, my second oldest sister, Wynonna, is poised to marry him in the spring. Then there is my eldest sister’s husband, Bobo Del Ray. She was my fathers pride and joy, and she married a criminal. He is an outlaw and rustles cattle. But if you ask him he is an entrepreneur. And marrying my sister all but granted him immunity from my uncle,”

            Nicole nodded, downing the third shot Waverly sat before her.

            “Now, if you see the boy by the billiards table? The one without a hat?”

            Nicole looked over. There was a young man, hair parted and delicately brushed to the side. His face was shaved smooth, or many he just couldn’t grow facial hair yet. Regardless, he was built like someone who did hard labor.

            “Who is that?” Nicole asked.

            “That is Hardy James, but people call him Champ,” Waverly said matter-of-factly, “He works in the stock yard and even competes in roping,”

            Nicole nodded along, cataloging the faces she saw.

            “He’s also courting me,” Waverly said.

            Nicole could feel the drop in her stomach. She wasn’t sure exactly why she was disappointed but she was.

            “He seems like a good prospect,” Nicole nodded.

            “Over there, is Red,” Waverly continued on her tour of the patrons for Nicole.

           

            Nicole headed home and rubbed her horse down. She fed the two horses and then turned in. She sat down on the old couch with a book and tried to relax. But it was hard to avoid thinking about the past; about the war, the bounty hunting, and Waverly.

            Despite barely knowing the girl she found her thoughts traveling back to the sly smile on the girls face as she slipped her free drinks. Or the way her voice sounded when she first introduced herself.

            Nicole set her book down and retrieved the key from the chain around her neck and unlocked a small chest on the mantle. She flipped through the old worn letters, reading the familiar lines.

            She safely stows the letters and retrieved a ream of paper and a pen.

           

            _Dear David,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I know it has been awhile since I’ve written. I was on the move and didn’t have time to put pen to paper._

_We have settled down in a small plains town. I bought a parcel of land and have built an adequate cabin for myself. Please tell Mother and Father that I am healthy and all is well._

_How is Benjamin? Last you wrote he had come down with measles. I have not heard anything else, so I hope that is an indication that he is healthy._

_I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about the war. I’ve been having nightmares. Flashes of the horrible things I have seen… of the horrible things I have done._

_Do you get this too?_

_There are dreams that are so vivid that I can taste, I can smell, and I can feel what I fleet then. To the point were I wake up with the acrid smell of gun smoke in my nostrils._

_I cannot tell if I wish that you feel it too so that I do not feel so alone or wish that you never feel such sorrow as this._

            _Hopefully one day we can be relieved of this sorrow._

_On a lighter note, I’ve taken up whittling to pass the down time. Maybe I will send a figurine home for little James’ birthday. I am sure fatherhood and family life looks good on you._

_-Love our beloved sister,_

_Nicole._

She set the letter aside and pulled out a new piece of paper. She had every intention to write a letter that was long overdue. She dipped the pen in the ink well, holding it just above the paper.

            She could feel the words she wanted to write, having thought on them for years, but she couldn’t see them. Every time she ever sat down to write this letter it was as if the thought caused her to lose all grasp of the English language.

            She sighed, admitting another defeat after an hour at the table, holding her pen mere centimeters above the paper.

            She put the pen down and blew out the kerosene lamp, heading for bed instead.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a little Spotify playlist with civil war songs and songs I feel add to the vibe of the story if anyone is interested. Even if you don't want to listen to the playlist it will give you a place to reference songs used later in the story. I've done this for another fic I wrote and people seemed to like the idea. 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6F9EfW86G0rbO14OdoNVgM


	3. Chapter 3

            Dolls circled Nicole, an almost predatory look in his eye. He was wearing cuffed pants and a white shirt that had come unbuttoned midway down his chest. Nicole was matching him. Both in where in a semi squat with their arms outstretched.

            Nicole saw her opportunity, shooting for his legs. Dolls managed to slip out of her grasp while taking a step back. He recovered and used the shift in momentum to take Nicole down to the straw-covered ground.

            He had Nicole pinned, or so he had thought. She turned onto her side in his grasp, and pushed her arms and legs forward, slipping from his grip.

            During the move she was able to control one of his arms and swing around behind him, using the arm as leverage. She flattened him to the ground, cranking his arm until he tapped on the ground.

            She let him go and stood triumphantly. He wiped loose straw off of his face and smiled.

            “You never cease to amaze me,”

            “You never cease to kick my ass,” she bantered.

            “I do have a good 50-pound weight advantage on you and you still hold your own,”

            They cleaned up and split ways.

            That was what the average training session with them looked like. The activities changed; grappling, boxing, knife fights, and shooting, but the formula was the same. It was important for them to stay sharp.

            Nicole headed into town for supplies. She hitched the old cart to her horse, Gertie.

            Once in town she went into the General Store. She was used to the looks and the whispers, the way people sidestepped around her and avoided the eye contact.

            She purchased boxes of ammunition and nails, and other supplies she needed for the homestead. She pulled her cart around the back of the building to load up the bags of horse feed she had purchased.

            The store clerk came out, “Do you need any help?”

            “No, I think I’ve got it,” Nicole grunted as she lifted the 50-pound sack with ease.

            “Very well,” he nervously wiped his hands on his apron, “I ah, I for one am glad to have more Law around this town,”

            Nicole threw the sack into the cart and grabbed the second.

            “But,” the clerk sounded nervous, “Someone like yourself should be careful. Not everyone is excited. I would watch your back. One Bobo Del Ray is worried that his protections with Wyatt Earp don’t extend to you,”

            “He would be correct,” Nicole nodded, “But he is not our primary focus, at least not yet,”

            “Well, don’t say no one warned you,”

                       

            The warning unsettled Nicole, but not as much as one might assume. It wasn’t the first time she had been threatened. Even so, she was more cautious and aware of her surroundings.

            She got out her revolver and cleaned it, loaded it, and left it on the table next to her. She continued and systematically serviced each of her firearms in the lamplight.

            Before heading to bed she did a double check of the lock on her door and placed the revolver on the table next to her bed.

            The night was uneventful. She spent the better part of the next day finishing the fence and gate in the front of her property. She affixed a small gate and latch. She attached a bell to the gate and swung the gate back and forth to ensure it rang freely.

            The crunch of gravel alerted her to something coming down the road. She waited, a hand on the butt of the holstered revolver on her hip. Two people became visible as they passed the windbreak at the edge of her property.

            It was unmistakably Waverly arm in arm with Champ. Nicole relaxed. She let her hand fall to her side and relaxed. The two walked slowly down the road. Nicole aimed a curt wave at the couple. She noticed the way Waverly’s face lit up when she saw Nicole outside.

            Waverly began to pick up her pace, almost dragging Champ to where Nicole stood next to her fence.

            “Champ, this is my new neighbor, Agent Haught,”

            Nicole held out her hand to shake it. Champ looked her up and down before hesitantly shaking her hand.

            “Agent of what?” He asked.

            Nicole pulled her badge from her pocket, showing it to him, “Of the US Marshals Cross Border Task Force,”

            “Uh huh,” he nodded, “I didn’t know they let women be marshals,”

            “Special task force, special agents,”

            “I see everything is coming together,” Waverly said referencing the new fence.

            “Yes, one of the finishing touches,” Nicole said patting the gate rail.

            “How… Handy,” Champ said with a grimaced he tried to hide.

            “We are going to continue on our walk, but I hope to see you soon,” Waverly nodded her head.

            “Have a nice walk,” Nicole tipped her hat at the couple before heading towards her cabin.

            Champ let out a chuckle that sounded more like a scoff.

            “What’s so funny?” She asked.

            “There is no way she’s a special agent of anything,” he laughed again.

            “Do you think she’s a lair?”

            “Maybe,” he shrugged, “Maybe she’s a con-woman. All I know is she rubs me the wrong way,”

            Waverly didn’t say much after that and once she returned to her uncle’s house she sent Champ home.

 

            Nicole found herself frequenting Shorty’s more than she might have visited it otherwise. She found she couldn’t resist seeing her favorite barmaid.

            She sat at the bar, telling herself that she was there to keep an eye on the riff-raff. But in reality, she was keeping an eye on Waverly.

            She heard footsteps and turned to see Doc Holiday walking up to her.

            He set his hat down on the bar and shook her hand.

            “I thought that it was time I introduced myself,” he stubbed out his cigarillo, “I’m John Henry Holiday, but you can call me Doc,” he winked.

            “Nicole Haught,” Nicole tipped her hat.

            “I see you have been enjoying my fine establishment,” he leaned against the bar.

            “Best place around to drink,” She sipped her beer.

            “I understand that Purgatory doesn’t exactly stick to tradition, but a female Lawmen?”

            “I’ve never been one for tradition either,” she said.

            “Well, as long as your presence doesn’t deter business, I’m happy to have you.  But if it creates trouble, I’ll ask you to leave,”

            “I understand that,” She nodded, “I will try not to cause trouble,”

            “Glad we could have this talk,” Doc squeezed her shoulder and walked away.

            “He likes you,” Waverly reassured.

            “How do you figure that?” Nicole smirked.

            “Well,” She drew out the word, “for one, he didn’t shoot you. And he didn’t kick you out,”

            “Fair enough,” Nicole tilted the half-empty glass in her hand.

            Waverly stopped polishing the bar, “He’s a peculiar man,”

            “I’ll say,” Nicole agreed.

            “Oh, I almost forgot,” Waverly slung the bar cloth over her shoulder, “My uncle asked me to pass along the message,”

            “And what is that message?”

            “He wants you to stop by the station, he needs your help with something,”

            “I will be certain to stop there. He didn’t mention what he needed, did he?”  
            “Nope,” Waverly said.

            “Good. Good, going in blind,”

            “Wyatt isn’t a scary man unless you are a criminal,”

            “He is just intimidating is all,” Nicole shrugged on her coat and bid Waverly goodbye. She headed across the dusty road to the Sheriff’s office.

            “I’m here to see Sheriff Earp,” She said to the deputy seated at the counter.           

            “In there,” the deputy jerked his thumb at the office.

            Nicole took off her hat, soothing the fly away from her braid. She stepped into the open doorway, “You wanted to see me?”

            “Oh, yes,” Wyatt closed a file and ushered her in, “Please sit,”

            Nicole took a seat in the chair across from his desk. She ran the brim of her hat through her fingers.

            “So I have something I need your help on,” he said.

            She leaned forward a bit. If Wyatt was asking for her help, it must be important, “What is it, sir?”

            “The Triangle Ridge Ranch lost 4 sheep this week,” he said, “I want you to go out and figure out what happened,”

            “Are there any theories?” She asked. The annoyance was building in her.

            “Yes, coyotes or wolves. If it’s either of those, kill it,”

            “Ok sir, I’ll get out there right away,”

            “Thank you, Deputy,” Wyatt dismissed her.

            Nicole collected her horse and rode out to Triangle Ridge Ranch, trying to not let the task at hand eat at her inside.

            “Busy work, he’s giving me busy work, Gertie,” Nicole said to the horse as they rode.

            She reached the ranch and dismounted. A woman in a dirty dress and a bonnet was standing in a garden. She stood up straight and wiped her hands on the front of her dress.

            “How can I help you?” She looked at Nicole in confusion.

            “I’m Deputy Marshal Haught, Sherriff Earp sent me to investigate the missing sheep,” Nicole showed the women her badge.

            She looked at Nicole skeptically, “Why didn’t he come out here himself?” She asked.

            “I do not know, I only know is he asked me to come out here,”

            “I’ll get my husband,” the woman walked away.

            Nicole surveyed the land around her. There was a small wheat field to the right of the farmhouse along with a barn. The rest of the land was pasture. She could see a distant rise spotted with dots that were undoubtedly sheep.

            A gruff man in overalls and a flannel shirt came around the corner from the far side of the barn. He was wiping his hands on an old handkerchief.

            “Bill Johnson,” He offered, holding out his hand.

            Nicole shook it, “Deputy Marshal Haught,” Nicole introduced herself.

            “Why didn’t Earp come out here himself?” He asked. He spit a stream of tobacco juice on the ground a little too close to Nicole’s boot for her liking.

            “As I was telling your wife, I'm not sure. I only know he asked me to come out here,”

            “Very well,” He huffed, “I found another one this morning. It’s in the barn if ya wanna take a look at it,”

            “That would be helpful, thank you,”

            She followed him into the barn and saw the sheep laying on burlap.

            “Found it up by the heard. Got a dog up there, not sure why she isn’t chasing whatever is doing this off,”

            Nicole looked at the sheep, stooping down to its level. It was clearly mauled, looked as though something had started eating it but was interrupted.

            “Looks like the dog might not have gotten there in time to protect the sheep but did scare whatever did this off while it was eating,”           

            “That doesn’t do me much good. Half eaten or fully eaten, I still can't sell it,” he scoffed.

            “Has this all been happening in the same pasture they're in now?” Nicole asked.

            “Yes, so they aren’t even that far from the house, still happening,”

            “I’ll go take a look around up there, if you don’t mind,” Nicole stood upright.

            “Be my guest,” He waved her off, “I seen nothing of use up there,”

            She got back up on Gertie and rode out to the pasture. They skirted around the outside of the heard, soft bleating from the sheep.

            She urged the horse around the pasture looking for disturbances. She found some trampled grass covered in blood. Surely the place the latest sheep was killed. Nicole dismounted and studied the area. She looked out into the distance and saw the pasture fence.

            Near the blood, but far enough away to not be obvious she found one paw print. It was smaller than a wolf’s. The claw marks marked it as being canine. The print was narrower, the features leading Nicole to conclude there was a coyote present.   
            She sighed. It wasn’t a hard conclusion to come to and she felt it was beneath her. Not helping others, but being the one sent out here to investigate this. She rode back down to the farm and proposed an idea to Mr. Johnson.

            “I am pretty sure it’s a coyote,” She said, “I was thinking I can go home and grab some supplies and sit out by your field tonight, watch over the flock and see if I cant shoot the coyote, or at least confirm it is one,”

            “Better you than me,” He said, “It’s going to be freezing cold. When you come in just let me know, I can put your horse up in the barn,”

            “Thank you, I will be sure to be here before dark,”

            Nicole went home, getting her supplies, changing her clothing and grabbing hunting supplies. She went back and Mr. Johnson fed Gertie and put her up in the barn. Nicole hiked out into the pastures, finding higher ground that she could see the whole flock. She took a prone position with her rifle and waited.

            It became clear very quickly that this would be a long night. Nicole found trying to stay focused lying on her belly in that field was not unlike pulling sentry during the war, ever staying alert to protect your sleeping counterparts.

            The wind stilled as the night went on. The moon was bright, almost full, casting a milky blue light over the flock. The old sheepdog was lying down near the flock, watching. Nicole hoped she would serve as an alarm bell. Any time Nicole saw the dogs ears prick up and turn she would use her eyeglass and scan the surrounding area.

            Nicole heard a rustle off to the west but noted the sheepdog's ears never turned. She scanned the long grass and could see a coyote crouched, slowly moving towards the sheep. It almost looked as if it was crawling.

            Nicole lifted her rifle, looking down the sight. She had to be patient, waiting for the coyote to enter the effective ranch. She can’t miss, she can't scare the flock unnecessarily.

            The coyote begins to circle, coming closer to Nicole. She takes a deep breath, holding it and aims down the sight. She pulled the trigger, the shocking sound startling the sheep and the sheepdog. The coyote ran 3 steps before crashing to the ground. She quickly moved down the hill and headed to the coyote. She kneeled near it and pet its head.

            She looked at the sheepdog, curiously. She whistled, and it came running.

            “Hey, girl,” She pet the dog behind the ears, “Why didn’t you hear him coming?”

            Nicole picked up the coyote and threw it over her shoulder. She hauled the offending beast down the hill and knocked on the Johnson’s door.

            “Mr. Johnson, I have the coyote,” She said when he opened the door and pointed back towards the dead animal she left on the ground.

            “So it was a coyote,” He huffed, “Very well. Thank you,”

            “Mr. Johnson, there is something else. While I was out there, I noticed that old sheepdog never heard the coyote coming. She never turned her ears,”

            “I’ll, I’ll ah have to look into that. Thank you for your help Agent Haught,”

            “You are very welcome,”

            Nicole rode home tiredly. The longtime out in the chill made her joints stiff, and her eyes tired. Once home she collapsed into her bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Below is a playlist of songs that I feel really sets the tone for the story if you are so inclined. If Nothing else it gives you a chance to hear some of the songs that will be mentioned later in the story. 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6F9EfW86G0rbO14OdoNVgM


	4. Chapter 4

Nicole awoke the next day in the late morning. Her body was stiff. She shuffled into her kitchen and starting boiling water for coffee.

            _Maybe I’m getting too old for this._ Nicole mused to herself.

            She got dressed and headed into town to visit the Sheriff.

            “I shot a coyote out at the Johnson’s last night,” Nicole reported to him.

            “Good, did you leave them the coyote?” Wyatt asked, sitting back in his chair.

            “Yes, sir,”

            “Don’t they have a sheepdog to watch over the flock?” Wyatt asked.

            Nicole nodded, running the brim of her hat in her hands, “I came to the conclusion that the poor old thing is starting to go deaf. She didn’t hear the coyote coming, only reacted to the gunshot,”

            Wyatt smoothed his mustache with his forefinger and thumb in an absentminded way that often comes with thought, “That is unfortunate. Good catch, Agent Haught,”

            “Sir, I do not wish to sound insubordinate, but why did you send me out there and not one of your own deputies?”

            “I did you a favor,” Wyatt said simply.

            “Forgive me for not understanding, how exactly?” She asked.

            Wyatt sat forward in his chair a bit, “You are a bright girl, I'm sure you are aware that people are skeptical, at best, of two American lawmen, one being a woman, coming into town and being secretive of their intentions. I won't mince words, I'm skeptical too. But I can see in your eyes that you are here with good intentions. By helping the Johnson’s you have endeared yourself to them. They may not trust you completely, but they are a little bit less suspicious of you and a little bit more willing to like you. By helping the community, the people will slowly forget that you are here as a part of some secret special task force, and may even hazard to like you,”

            Nicole looked down at the hat in her hands, then back up at the Sheriff, “I can see how that would be of benefit for Dolls and me,”

            “What exactly is it that you and Dolls do,” Wyatt asked.

            “I respect the directness,” Nicole smiled, “But I am not at liberty to discuss it,”

            “I did contact Washington, and they telegraphed me informing me that you and Dolls do exist. But like you said, they didn’t divulge anything further. What I think the US government and you and your partner are underestimating is the help that this old retired US Marshal might be able to provide,”

            Nicole saw a look in his eyes that she was all too familiar with. It was a feeling of being left out. The look of a man who wishes to help but ultimately knows he cant. She had seen it in the eyes of her brother before she left, in men in field hospitals, and she had felt it herself when she first wanted to help fight in 61.

            “Dolls and I are very… efficient,” Nicole nodded, “And we have been doing this for a long while. In my experience, the fewer people who know what we do, the fewer complications,”

            Wyatt nodded, chewing on his lip, “I had to try,”

           

            A few weeks later Nicole was sitting at the rough-hewn table cleaning her rifle. It had been quiet around the area. Her and Dolls were taking a bit of a break, almost. Both spent their spare time training and running errands for the Sheriff. Nicole felt relaxed, the closest to being home she had felt since 1861. This scared her; being relaxed was not good for safety.

            She heard the crunch of rock underfoot and the jingle of the bell on her gate. She snapped too and grabbed her revolver and peered out the window.

            Waverly was knocking on the door, a basket in her hands. Nicole let out a sigh of relief and holstered her revolver before opening the door.

            She opened the door, “Good morning, Miss Earp,”

            “I had extra eggs an I thought I would bring some to you, mind if I come in?”

            “Please,” Nicole stepped aside, letting the woman in.

            “I was wondering what the mysterious Nicole Haught’s home might look like,” Waverly set the basket down on the table.

            She looked around. The living space was one large room. The bak had a counter with a wash basin and cabinets. A wood stove tucked away. On the free wall threw was a fireplace with a stone hearth. There was a spot to hang a gun above the mantel.

            There was an old beat up couch and a rough-hewn table with 2 chairs. A bookshelf packed to the brim with books occupied the corner of the room.

            “It isn’t much,” Nicole stuck her hands in the pockets of her trousers.

            “You built this with your own hands, that is much,” Waverly continued to look around.

            Nicole sat down at the table, offering Waverly the other chair.

            “What are you doing today?” Waverly asked.

            “I ah, I was cleaning my gun. I’m going deer hunting tomorrow,”

            “Why am I not surprised?”

            Nicole shrugged, finishing the task at hand and setting the gun aside.

            “I’ve never shot a gun before,” Waverly said, trying to make conversation.

            “Your Uncle is the Great Wyatt Earp and you are telling me no one taught you to shoot?”

            “Never,” Waverly shook her head.

            “Are you interested in a lesson?”

            Waverly shrugged, “Why not?”

            “Are you free this morning? Or will your uncle be expecting you back?”

            “I have time,” Waverly confirmed.

            Nicole retrieved her small game rifle and some ammunition before beckoning Waverly to follow. They walked to the farthest end of the pasture where there was a rail with cans and bottles neatly stacked next to it.

            “This is where I sight my firearms and practice,” Nicole explained. She set up 3 targets and paced off a beginning distance and loaded the gun.

            “Some safety first. You never point the gun at something unless you plan to kill it. Always keep your finger away from the trigger until you are ready to shoot,” Nicole demonstrated.

            Nicole shouldered the rifle and showed Waverly how to hold the gun. She then aimed and squeezed the trigger. The can on the rail flew off.

            “See? Easy,” Nicole lowered the rifle.

            Nicole handed the gun over to the smaller woman, coaching her on how to hold it properly. Nicole stood behind her and positioned Waverly so that she was properly holding the gun.

            “First you have to cock the gun with the lever,” Nicole said softly. Nicole guided Waverly’s hand in how to pump the lever, “Ok, line up the front bead with your target, and then line up the bead in the notch. When you are ready, line up your sights, and then place your finger on the trigger. When you are ready, squeeze the trigger slowly and steadily,”

            Waverly squeezed the trigger and the glass bottle shattered. Waverly let out a small squeal of surprise.

            “Nicely done!” Nicole let her go, “How did it feel?”

            “It hurt my shoulder slightly, but wow,”

            “Ok, do the next one all on your own,” Nicole instructed.

            Waverly brought the gun up to her shoulder, “Like this?”

            She smiled as Nicole’s body circled back around her.

            “More like this,” Nicole said as she adjusted the position of the gun slightly.

            “Thank you,”

            Waverly fired off another round hitting the tin can right through the middle.

            Nicole let out a whistle, “You are a natural, Miss Earp,”

            Waverly beamed back, “You are a great teacher,”

            “Ok, hold the barrel straight up, I will set up more targets,”

            Nicole set up targets and then paced off a new distance.

            Waverly hit each target with surprising accuracy.

            Nicole continued to move Waverly back to challenge her and it became clear quickly that Waverly was an amazing shot.

            “Miss Waverly Earp, you are a natural,” Nicole admonished again. She took the rifle from Waverly.

            “Thank you,” Waverly bowed, “Thank you for the lesson,”

            “It was my pleasure,” Nicole smiled.

            “In return, may I cook you lunch?” Waverly followed Nicole inside.

            “I must admit, I don’t have much right now besides the eggs you brought,”

            “I’ll see what I can do,” Waverly headed to the kitchen.

            Before long Waverly was cooking some venison Nicole had left over with vegetables and the eggs. Not the most elegant meal but practical. Waverly served the food on the rough tin plates Nicole had.

            “Thank you very much,” Nicole was grateful.

            They ate in relative silence. Once they were done Waverly washed the dishes and poured each of them some water.

            They sat out on the pouch and watched the wind blow the tall grass, bending it to its will. It was a relatively warm autumn day causing Nicole to roll up the sleeves of the men’s shirt she wore.

            “Why did you really come calling on me today?” Nicole asked.

            Waverly blushed, “Truthfully, Champ said he was going to come over, even though I told him not to. I knew my uncle wouldn't be home for the better part of the day, and I didn’t want to see him,”

            “Aren't you two courting?” Nicole was confused as to why she wouldn’t want to see him.

            “I’ve tried to get him to move on,” Waverly admitted, “The thought of being married to him for the rest of my life is… suffocating,”

            “I can understand that,” Nicole took a sip of water.

            “Have you ever been courted?” Waverly asked, the curiosity adding an edge to her voice. She couldn’t help but try to crack the enigma that was Nicole Haught.

            Nicole chuckled, “Not proper like, at least not since I was a teen,”

            Waverly’s mouth fell open in shock, “Nicole! You are nearly 25!”

            “I am well aware,” Nicole nodded.

            “How is it possible? You are as beautiful as a flower. Between you firey red hair and your beautiful pale skin, a man would be a fool. Factor in your smarts and quick wit, you are special Nicole Haught,”

            Nicole looked down at her hands, trying to conceal the deep blush on her cheeks.

            “Thank you, Miss Waverly” Nicole nervously chuckled, “But I fear I don’t exactly attract men,” She motioned to her clothing. She wore dresses sparingly, opting for menswear when doing work. It was often interpreted as an act of rebellion, but it was mearly more practical.

            “Ive always know I was destined for the life of a spinster,” Nicole made eye contact with Waverly, hoping that the weight of her words held meaning to the girl.

            Both of them looked up when they heard the distant sound of hooves coming their way.

            “Waverly?” The gruff voice of Wyatt Earp proceeded him.

            Waverly jumped down from the porch and smoothed her dress out.

            Soon Wyatt was visible. They could see him physically relax when he saw Waverly standing safe and sound in the yard. He slowed down the chestnut horse.

            “Yes, Uncle Wyatt?”

            “There you are,” a look of relief was evident on his face, “I got home and Hardy James was there saying you were gone despite you two having plans today,”

            Nicole could see the fire light in Waverly’s eyes.

            “That boy is sorely mistaken. He and I had no such plans,” Waverly stood up straighter, “I told him not to come calling on me when my uncle was not home and he insisted on it anyhow. So I came to Nicole’s to avoid whatever Mr. James had in mind,”

            Wyatt softened and smiled through his mustache at the youngest Earp, “Well,” he considered, “Thank you, Agent Haught, for keeping my niece company,”

            “It was my pleasure, sir,” Nicole said politely.

            He nodded, “I’m sure it was,” he looked back at his beloved niece, “Next time, please leave me a note or something,”

            “Yes, sir. I’m sorry that I gave you worry Uncle Wyatt,”

            “I’ll tell that boy to not come around unless I’m there and you want him there,”

            “Thank you,”

            “Do you want a ride home?” he asked.

            “Nicole will make sure I get home,” Waverly looked at Nicole.

            “Yes, Sir,” Nicole confirmed.

            “I’ll see you before dark then,” Wyatt tipped his hat to the two women and rode back down the road.

            The two women sat back down on the porch. It was quiet, the only audible sound was the rustling of the grasses in the wind.

            “I’m thinking of digging a vegetable garden over there before winter to prepare it for spring,” Nicole said pointing to an open area in front of the smokehouse.

            “That would be lovely,” Waverly nodded, “So you are staying then?”

            “I don’t plan on going anywhere unless I have to,”

            “I'm glad to hear that,” Waverly lightly touched Nicole’s knee.

            Nicole melted into the touch.

            “Come hunting with me,” Nicole proposed excitedly.

            “What?”

            “Come deer hunting with me,” Nicole said again.

            “When?”

            “IM going hunting tonight, but I want to go in the early morning in a couple days,” Nicole thought for a second, “ You could spend the night and we could head out to my spot before dawn,”

            Waverly could feel the excitement bubble up in her. Not just at the prospect of adventure but of adventure _with_ Nicole.

            “I will ask my uncle, but I don’t see why he would object, as long as I don't tell him we are hunting,”

           

            Eventually Nicole walked Waverly down the road before it was too late. They stopped at the edge of the homestead property just beyond the eyesight of the farmhouse.

            “Thank you for the surprise of your company today, Miss Waverly,”

            “Thank you for welcoming me into your home,” Waverly looked down shyly.

            “You are always welcome in my home,”

            Waverly reached up and kissed Nicole on the cheek before heading down the path. Nicole, slightly dazed, hurried to catch up.

            Wyatt was chopping wood on a stump next to the barn.

            “Uncle Wyatt, I’m home,”

            He stood up, cowboy hat casting a shadow on his face, “Thank you for returning Waverly safely,”

            “You are welcome, Sir,” Nicole nodded.

            “Take care on your way back home,” He sounded like he cared and it wasn’t just a pleasantry.

            “I will. Good evening to you both,” Nicole departed back to her house.

            Wyatt smiled at his niece, “Why don't you get cleaned up for dinner I’ll be in soon,”

 

            “I talked to the James boy when I got back,” Wyatt said over dinner, “He wanted me to extend an apology to you on his behalf,”

            “That was nice of him,” Waverly chased a carrot around her plate.

            “You’ve been hanging around a bit with Nicole Haught,”

            “Yes, I have. It’s nice to have a woman to confide in,”

            “I’m sure it is,” Wyatt paused a beat, “But I do worry a bit about you associating with her,”

            Waverly felt a flash of heat in her chest. She had heard the rumors, the ill remarks around town.

            “What do you mean by that?”

            Wyatt paused. He adored all of his nieces like they were his own children. But as the youngest, Waverly held a particularly special spot in his heart. He didn’t want to offend her.

            “It’s just, she isn’t from around here,”

            “Says the man born in Illinois,” Waverly countered.

            Wyatt chuckled, “That is fair,” He wiped his face with his napkin, “I guess what I'm trying to say is that she’s different...”

            “That is true,” Waverly conceded, “But she is different because she holds certain traits I feel more women should have. She is strong and self-reliant. She can survive,”

            “You aren’t wrong,”

            “Speaking of, I would like to spend the night at hers tomorrow,”  
            “What will you be doing?” Wyatt asked.

            “She wants to learn needlepoint,” Waverly lied quickly.

            “I see no harm in it, I hope you enjoy yourself,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6F9EfW86G0rbO14OdoNVgM


	5. Chapter 5

 

            Waverly made the pilgrimage down the road to Nicole’s cabin a bit early with a basket full of personal effect on her arm.

            Once she arrived she noticed Nicole by the sheltered woodpile where she was splitting logs. Waverly paused when she noticed Nicole whistling an upbeat tune.

            She stopped whistling abruptly; her voice started up in a bright singing tone that was marred only by the labored breathing with each swing of the axe.

            “ _Oh, we’ll rally around the flag, boys,_

_We’ll rally once again,_

_Shouting the battle cry of freedom_

_And we’ll rally from the hillside_

_We’ll gather from the plain, shouting the battle cry of freedom._

_The Union Forever! Hurrah boy, Hurrah._

_Down with the traitors and up with the star,_

_While we rally round the flag, boys,_

_We rally once again_

_Shouting the battle cry of freedom_!

            Nicole stopped, she saw Waverly standing to the side watching her. The look on Waverly’s face was a cross of confusion and admiration.

            “Don’t stop on account of me,”

            Nicole took the axe back up and started the song were she left off.

            “ _We will welcome to our numbers the loyal, true and brave,_

_Shouting the battle cry of freedom!_

_And although he may be poor, he shall never be a slave, shouting the battle cry of freedom!_

_So we’re springing to the call from the East and from the West,_

_Shouting the battle cry of freedom,_

_And we’ll hurl the rebel crew from the land we love best,_

_Shouting the battle cry of freedom!”_

            Nicole’s axe fell a bit harder on the last “freedom” adding a bit of flourish. She split a couple more logs. Waverly was surprised by how pleasant Nicole’s singing was to the ears and by the emotion packed into the words.

            Nicole loaded the split logs into a firewood carry blanket and motioned for Waverly to go ahead into the cabin.

            Nicole fed the fire that was already going in the fireplace.

            “Did someone in your family fight in the war?” Waverly asked.

            Nicole battled herself to keep her composure, “Both of my brothers,”

            “For the Union?” Waverly asked.

            “No, my eldest Brother, Ansel, fought for the Confederacy,” Nicole swallowed, “But David fought for the Union,”

            “I recognized that song you were singing. I remember my Daddy singing it when he was home briefly during the war,”

            “It was very popular,” Nicole confirmed.

            Waverly set down her basket on the table, “You know, my Daddy died in Gettysburg,” Waverly said.

            Nicole could feel the pinpricks on the back of her eyes. Just the thought brought back the sites and smells of that day. The dead bodies were strewn throughout the field like forgotten playthings of a child.

            Waverly could see the way Nicole’s eyes grew dark.

            “My brother, Ansel, died in Vicksburg,” Nicole nervously wiped her hands on her trousers, “I washed the bedding for you. You can stay in my room for the night, I’ll stay on the couch,” Nicole led Waverly into her bedroom.

            It was a sliver of Nicole’s life that Waverly had yet to see. She looked around the room as she set her things down on the bed.

            In the corner, there was an old handmade banjo propped against the wall. There was another bookshelf, with some more books but also many boxes. The window was made of 4 glass panes framed with rough curtains. A rack on the wall had 3 more long rifles on it, a repeating rifle, and an old double barrel shotgun.

            “You play the banjo?” Waverly asked.

            “Yes, I haven’t played in a long time though,”

            Waverly nodded. She could tell the talk of war earlier had soured Nicole’s mood. They moved back into the living area and worked side by side to cook dinner.

            “I am sorry if I said anything to upset you earlier,” Waverly said.

            Nicole softened, “You know how hard it can be sometimes,” Nicole said, “Sometimes you go so long without thinking of something that when you do, its extra painful,”

           

            After dinner they sat by the fire, soaking in the heat.

            “Thank you for bringing that bread,” Nicole said.

            “Thank you for providing food for us to eat,”

            They went quiet again. Without warning, Nicole stood and headed into her bedroom. She came back a moment later softly tuning the old banjo.

            “This was my brother Ansel’s. It was the only thing I took from home when I left,”

            Nicole sat on the couch and strummed a couple notes, reacquainting herself with an old friend it seemed. Waverly watched as Nicole launched into a quick spritely tune.

            She slowed down, launching into a slow and sorrowful rendition of “When Johnny Comes Marching Home,”

            “You have a beautiful voice,” Waverly said.

            “Thank you,” Nicole set the banjo down, “That felt nice, I’ve gotta play more often,”

            “I would agree,” Waverly nodded.

            Nicole tended to the fire a bit before taking the banjo back up hammering out a light bouncy tune. Waverly was mesmerized by the way Nicole’s fingers lightly danced on the fingerboard. The practiced movements flowed easily and the movement looked fluid and effortless.

            It reminded Nicole of a time during the war, a rare happy moment. The Wisconsin 7th Infantry had stopped for a night in Northern Kentucky in a small town. When they marched into town the locals were so happy to see the blue coats that they raised a barn dance in their honor.

            A small band started up. People drank and danced.

            The music lulled and a man in dirty overalls stood, “Anyone of ya know how to pick a banjer?”

            Nicole looked around briefly before stepping forward, “I do,”

            “Ah right kid let's go,”

            Someone handed her a banjo and she sat down on an overturned milking bucket. She plucked the strings making sure they were in tune and gave the other men a nod. Together they played for the crowd. Nicole picked and strummed out the tunes and ad-libbed on the songs she didn’t know.

            As she played she found her eyes wandering to a blonde girl in a blue patterned dress. The girl was hanging to the side, not dancing with the other folks her age. The girl smiled back and Nicole and blushed deeply.

            At the end of the event, she handed back the banjo, sad to part with a friend that reminded her of her dear older brother. She filed out of the hall following the other soldiers and revelers. The blonde girl from before was standing outside, seemingly waiting for her.

            “Hello,” the girls face lit up when she saw the soldier she had been waiting for.

            “Hello, Ma’am,” Nicole tipped her forage cap.

            “I’m Sarah Collins. The town elders said we should offer the soldiers warm beds and dinner if we are able. I was wondering if you had a place to go for the night,”

            “I do not,” Nicole said cautiously.

            “It is just my brother and me at home, we would be honored to offer our home to a soldier of the United States,”

            “I would appreciate that,” Nicole nodded.

            The girl held out her arm, “What is your name, soldier?”

            Nicole took the girl’s arm as they headed down the road, “My name is Nicolas Haught,”

            “And where do you come from?”

            “Wisconsin,” Nicole said plainly.

            “Do you miss home?” Sarah asked.

            “Yes and no,” Nicole said, “I miss the people, like my brothers, and I miss deer hunting with my father. But I do relish this opportunity for adventure, a new life and to be able to be who I wish,”

            “I can appreciate that,” Sarah agreed.

            “If I may be so bold,” Sarah began. Nicole looked down at the girl, “I think you’re banjo playing was amazing, and I think you are quite handsome,”

            Nicole blushed and looked away, “Thank you,” she choked out, “that blue dress looks mighty fine on you, Sarah,”

 

            When they arrived at the house there was a man sitting on the porch, he looked only a year or two older than Nicole. His face was gaunt, the hollows of his cheeks hidden by a long and well-groomed beard. He was smoking a pipe in the dim lamplight, rocking slowly in a rocking chair.

            “Who is this?” He asked.

            “I’m Private Nicolas Haught of the 7th Wisconsin Infantry,”

            “I offered this soldier a bed and meal as the elders suggested,” Sarah explained.

            The man stood slowly and gingerly, he reached out for a crutch. He leaned against it, his left leg pointing the wrong way.

            “Lieutenant Adam Collins. I was injured at Manassas, so the war didn’t last long for me,” He slowly came down the steps. He shook Nicole’s hand, “I would be glad to open our home to you,”

            “Thank you, sir,”

            “Sarah, do not forget your chores. I’m sure Nicolas here could help you,”

            “Most certainly,” Nicole nodded enthusiastically.

            Sarah collected a bucket, “This way,”

            She led Nicole down to a barn, “We have to milk Mildred,”

            “I can do that for you,” Nicole offered.

            Nicole took off her coat and rolled up the sleeves of her shirt. Sarah offered her a clean cloth that Nicole sued to clean the cow’s udder. In a practiced motion, she milked the cow.            

            “Here you go,” Nicole smiled softly, passing the bucket to Sarah. Nicole stood and brushed off the dirt from her pants.

            Sarah leaned up and kissed Nicole on the cheek. Nicole felt a stirring inside of her, a flush of heat to her face.

            “You are very sweet, Sarah Collins,”

            Nicole shrugged on the blue coat, buttoning the 3 buttons left on her coat.

            “You are missing buttons,” Sarah looked concerned, “And look at the hole in your pants,” She shook her head, “I insist on mending these before you go.

            When they got back inside Sarah led Nicole to a spare bedroom, “Let me go grab you a change of clothes,”

            Nicole sat down and began unlacing her tattered boots. Sarah came back in with a stack of clothes. She also filled a washbasin with warm water, “They are my brothers. They may not fit you very well, but it’s all we have,”

            “I appreciate it nonetheless,” Nicole smiled.

            Once she was alone Nicole undressed and used the water to bathe quickly. Nicole dried off and sighed. She had stopped using the bandage she had used to bind her breasts months ago, relying on the shapelessness of her uniform to hide her form.

            She wrapped her chest, flattening her chest so that it won't be as noticeable through the borrowed blouse. Once she was dressed she went back into the living area.

            “After dinner I’ll mend your uniform,” Sarah was sitting in front of the fireplace, stirring a pot hanging over the flames.

            “Can I help in anyway?”

            “No, please relax,” She motioned to an armchair.

            Adam limped into the room he took a bottle of the shelf and two glasses. He poured two fingers of whiskey in each glass and handed Nicole one.

            After dinner, the two sat by the fire as Sarah stitched a patch to the blue wool of her pants.

            “You are different than other soldiers I’ve met,”  
            “How so?” Nicole asked, her voice only betraying a sliver of her nerves.

            “Despite the things you have surely seen and done, you have retained a softness in your spirit,”

            “I do try to keep grounded,” Nicole, said, “I don’t let it consume me,”

            “I like you, Nicolas,” Sarah said, “I hope it might be alright if I write to you,”

            “That would be lovely. I don’t exactly receive a lot of mail at the present moment,”

            “Do you not have a sweetheart at home?” Sarah asked.

            Nicole chuckled, “No, no I do not,”

            Sarah let slip a small smile, “The pants are done,” She held them up proudly.

            “Thank you," Nicole, folded them neatly and set them aside.

            “I don’t have buttons that will match your coat, I hope that’s ok?”

            “I am merely grateful for the repair,” Nicole reassured.

            She quietly sowed the buttons onto the faded blue coat.

            Once she was done Sarah asked Nicole to help her carry in firewood. The pair went outside and Sarah took Nicole’s hand and led her to the woodpile.

            Sarah stopped short of the woodpile and turned to Nicole.

            She leaned up and this time kissed Nicole gently on the lips. Nicole pulled her close and kissed her back.

            When they pulled apart Nicole looked down at the girl, “You are very bold, Sarah Collins,”

            “You say that as if you didn’t kiss me back,”

            A pang of guilt and worry crept into Nicole.

            “Sweetest Sarah, I like you, but I am not who I said I was,” Nicole let her go.

            Sarah reached up, lightly touching Nicole’s chest. Her finger pulled gently at the edge of the bandage around her chest, without any words, Nicole could understand was Sarah was saying.

            “My name is Nicole Rayleigh Haught,” She whispered. She felt an odd sense of relief, saying her real name for the first time in a year.

            Sarah reached up placing a finger on Nicole’s lips to quiet her before removing it to kiss her again. This time it wasn’t nearly as chaste. It was a kiss that spoke to more.

            When they pulled apart Sarah looked down, “My brother has taken to drinking a lot since he came home from the war. It won't be too long until he falls asleep. When he’s asleep, not much wakes him up,”

            Sarah looked up at the taller woman, “If you would like, I could come call on you then,”

            Nicole swallowed hard, “I think I would like that,”

            They collected wood and headed back inside. Adam was deep into the whiskey bottle already. Nicole helped stack the wood and put fuel on the fire. She stood and wiped sawdust from her hands.

            “Well, thank you, Mr. Collins. I greatly appreciate you opening your home to me. I am very tired and I will retire for the night if you don’t mind,”

            “Good night, Nicolas,” He held up a glass of whiskey.

            Nicole went into the bedroom. She sat down on the bed and untied her boots, setting them at the foot of her bed. She changed her socks and washed her face. She then sat down on the bed and waited. It didn’t take long for a light knock on the door signaled Sarah’s arrival.

            She opened the door to Sarah in a nightgown. She was holding extra blankets.

            “I told you it wouldn’t take too long, may I come in?”

            Nicole stepped aside, “Please do,”  
            Sarah set the blankets down at the foot of the bed and took a seat on the bed as Nicole closed the door. She leaned against the door briefly. She paused and took a breath.

            Sarah patted the bed next to her inviting Nicole to sit next to her. Nicole sat gingerly next to her and Sarah took her hand in hers.

            Nicole closed her eyes at the gentle contact. Everything about Sarah was so at odds with the pain, exhaustion, and horror of the experiences she had had in recent months.

            While her eyes were closed Sarah stole a soft kiss. Nicole found her lips chasing Sarah’s, her hands reaching for the soft skin of the women next to her. The kisses quickly escalated, they were deep and passionate, leaving Nicole with a slow-burning growing inside of her.

            Sarah slipped her hand under the loose shirt and felt the bandage with her fingers. Nicole broke away, standing to remove the borrowed shirt. She hesitated, making eye contact with the hungry eyes sitting on the bed. She gingerly unclipped the bandage and slowly unwound it, revealing the red marks from the binding along with the tender flesh underneath.

            Sarah stood to match her, she gently touched the red marks, kissing them softly. The contact elicited a whispered moan, an admission of the want. Her hands splayed out against the warm skin of Nicole’s stomach.

            She reached down and tugged at the drawstring of the pants Nicole had one. Sarah then shucked the nightgown she had on to the floor.

            Nicole reconnected their lips. She walked them back, laying Sarah down on the bed. Both of their hands were scrambling for purchase on soft skin. Porcelain and tan skin, stands of loose red hair, a halo of blonde on the pillow.

            The two became fevered, soft moans and hitched breaths. Nicole pulled away slightly, “Sarah, I’ve never…” She looked down.

            Sarah’s hand gently cupped Nicole’s chin, tipping her head up to meet her eyes,”

            “That’s alright,” Sarah kissed her sweetly.

 

            Sarah slipped from the room before sun up. Sarah wrote to Nicole frequently in the following year. It helped bolster Nicole’s lie to have a girl to court after, a girl in love with her.

            But they both knew there was no chance of them getting together after the war and the letters weren’t enough.

  

            Waverly could see in Nicole’s eyes that she was deep in thought as she played the old banjo. It was as though she wasn’t here at all, but a million miles away. There was so much that Waverly didn’t know about her friend. She wished she could know what made Nicole brood so.

            Nicole seemingly snapped back to reality. She finished the song before setting the instrument down against the seat.

            “Where did you go just now?” Waverly asked gently.

            “What do you mean?”

            “As you played you looked as though you were very far away in your head,”

            “I was remembering a different time,” Was all Nicole would say on the matter.

            Soon after they retired for the night. Once Nicole was certain Waverly was asleep she took the key from her necklace and unlocked the small wooden box on the mantel. She retrieved the worn letters and sat near the fire to read by the light.

           

            _Dearest Nicolas,_

_I hope my letter finds you well. I heard of the dreadful engagement at Antietam. I pray you are in one piece. Please write with haste, as I worry you are among the unidentified._

_I miss your voice and your tender touch. I know the time we had together was but a blink of the eye, but it is with great intensity that I miss you, that I long to feel your embrace once more._

_Perhaps when you are headed back to Wisconsin after this horrible war is over you might stop in Kentucky and scoop me up. Take me with you. I feel I could easily adjust to life up there, as long as you were by my side._

_I know that for now that is merely daydreams._

_Please stay safe and let me know your condition soon. I miss you dearly. You are in my prayers._

_Yours Always,_

_Sarah_

 

            If Nicole sniffed hard enough she swore she could still smell the faint scent of the perfume Sarah had sprayed onto the letter.

            After reading some more Nicole stowed them safely back in the box. She stoked the fire one last time before going to bed.

 

 

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Battle Cry of Freedom https://open.spotify.com/track/4RiNDadap7FsMoCZljnmcY  
> When Johnny Comes Marching Home https://open.spotify.com/track/7zIS9mPcqaFPXh54sRIWoI
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6F9EfW86G0rbO14OdoNVgM


	6. Chapter 6

            Waverly awoke in a start to the sounds of screams. She ran blindly out into the living area, the screams coming from Nicole.

            Through the fog of sleep, it became quickly apparent to Waverly that Nicole was screaming in her sleep, her body restless with a nightmare. Waverly hurried over and lightly shook Nicole, “Nicole, its ok, wake up, wake up!”

            Nicole woke with a start, drawing back wildly.

            “Shh… you were having a nightmare,” Waverly brushed away the rust-colored hair stuck to Nicole’s face.

            Nicole sat up, breathing hard. It was chilly; the fire had burned down and was not giving off enough heat.

            “What... what’s going on?”

            “You were having a nightmare, I woke up to your screams,”

            Nicole began to find her composure even though the memory of the dream was still fresh. The dreams changed, but the themes never differed. It was almost always a patchwork of the horrors she saw during the war, the chilling sound of the rebel yell.

            “I’m sorry to have woken you,” Nicole apologized.

            “Are you alright?” Waverly asked. Her brows furrowed in concern.

            “Yes, I have nightmares sometimes, nothing to worry too much about,”

            Waverly gave her a skeptical look, “You have lived a hard life. I can see it in your face,”

            Nicole nodded, “I’ve seen things no man, woman or child should ever see.,”

            Waverly kissed her cheek, “Rest, I’ll see to the fire,”

            Waverly gently tucked Nicole n and knelt before the fire, adding logs and getting the fire built back up.

 

            Nicole woke up and padded into her bedroom to wake Waverly. They dressed and ate briefly. The sky was still dark, just a sliver of horizon admitted to the two that the sun would rise soon. In the night a light dusting of snow had fallen on the ground causing their footfalls to be quieted and dulled. Nicole shouldered the gun, setting it close to the pack on her back.

            Waverly looked at Nicole. She was wearing boots, men’s trousers, layered shirts, and a red and black tartan jacket. A flapped hat covered her ears.           

            Waverly wore borrowed boots, a winter dress with lined leggings under. Her winter coat pulled up around her neck. Earmuffs circled her head. They walked some ways into the line of woods around Nicole’s land, walking quickly to help keep them warm. Their breath shown in clouds as they moved. They came to a hill with a makeshift hunting blind built up. It had 3 sides, 2 logs high with the earth moved to allow more cover. A single log was in the middle for them to sit on. The structure was a relic of the marksmen posts she used to build during the war. The blind was framed by trees, proving cover and concealment.

            The vantage point looked down at a field, cut not long before at harvest.

            “They move through here in the early morning,” Nicole whispered. The wind was favorable, blowing up the hill into their face. They sat on the log, Nicole laid out a quilt; a luxury she didn’t afford herself but provided for Waverly.

            Nicole fished out 2 old antler sheds that had been cut down to save space and handle easily. Nicole began rustling them together, mimicking the sound of two bucks going head to head.

            After awhile Nicole gave the task to Waverly. They sat close, shoulders touching for warmth in the cold morning air. The rifle leaned against the front logs, waiting for the sun to rise high enough to clearly see any deer approaching.

            Nicole pulled her old pocketknife out and unfolded it. Waverly noticed the wooden handle, silver metal inlay. On the blade, Waverly could see USA ARMY stamped into the metal. Waverly recognized it as a standard issue Union soldier pocketknife. She had one just like it at home in a box full of her Daddy’s things.

            Nicole peeled away some of the bark on the log in front of them. In the freshly exposed wood, she carved “NH” slowly and methodically. Below she neatly carved “WE”.

            The sun was now visible. The dusting of snow still clung to the ground. The grass on the edge of the clearing was still green, poking through the white.

            Nicole thought she heard rustling. She used her hand to still Waverly’s antlers. Then she let go and let Waverly continue.

            Nicole pulled out an old eyeglass encased in brass. She looked down the hill spotting the brown hock of a deer.

            The rattling encouraged the deer forward, past the thick tree trunk that concealed him. He walked cautiously into the field, sniffing the wind. A thick velvety neck outstretched in the air, a triangular head pointed their direction, and 2 antlers with four strong points on each loomed over him.

            Nicole helped Waverly continue to call him in closer.

            She pocketed the eyeglass. She pointed in the direction of the buck, careful not to startle it.

            Nicole made sure the gun was loaded before trading Waverly for the antlers.

The buck cautiously came in. Nicole positioned herself behind Waverly, coaxing her to lift the weapon and rest the gun barrel on the short log wall. Nicole looked down the sites over Waverly’s shoulder. Her form surrounding Waverly, hands guiding. She held her hand over Waverly’s, sliding the bolt action, putting the round in the chamber.

            “When I squeeze your shoulder, aim for the lungs,” Nicole whispered in Waverly’s ears.

            Nicole rattled the antlers one more time. The buck came closing, stopping to sniff the ground. He took one more step turning as if to present the perfect shot for the novice hunter.

            Waverly liked the contact. The feeling and smell of Nicole circled around her. She took a deep breath and aimed. She felt a squeeze on her shoulder. Another beat passed before Waverly squeezed the trigger.

            The buck took a few steps back, the shock of the sound and the bullet entering him. The buck ran a few yards before falling into the snow and leaf litter at the tree line.

            Nicole pumped her first giving Waverly a jubilant squeeze.

            “Nice job!” Nicole’s voice rang.

            Waverly had never seen such unabashed joy on Nicole’s face. She had seen Nicole smile, and laugh, and dare she even say, flirt. But in that moment was the first time Waverly had ever seen Nicole excited and joyful.

            They headed to the downed buck. He was clearly dead, tongue lolled out of its mouth.

            “Oh, he is a beauty,” Nicole kneeled next to the head, pausing. She touched the short soft fur of its forehead, closing her eyes in prayer for a moment.

            Waverly joined her, suddenly looking sad.

            “I feel bad,” Waverly said. She was petting the still warm fur, “He was so handsome,”

            Nicole took pity, “His life was sacrificed so that we have the fuel for our bodies this winter. And to make new gloves, bolster the collar of a coat, line winter boots or make a new hat,”

            Waverly whispered a prayer while absentmindedly petting the first.

            Nicole went back to her pack and grabbed a couple of supplies. She dragged the deer to a tree and hung the hefty dear up, hoisting it against the tree.

            Nicole took off her gloves and coat and pulled an old antler handled hunting knife from the sheath on her belt. With quick, practiced movements she field dressed the deer, removing the organs not fit to eat.

            Once they were ready to head back Nicole tasked Waverly with grabbing the pack and hunting rifle. Nicole tied a harness to the deer and positioned the straps on her own shoulders. They walked back, Nicole dragging the deer the whole way. IT was late morning by the time they got back to Nicole’s Cabin.

            Nicole started butchering the deer, no time of a much-needed meal.

            “You did well,” Nicole said to Waverly.

            “I didn’t do anything, it was all you,”  
            Nicole shook her head, “Most first time hunters couldn’t have made that shot. You called him in and shot him. You kept your cool,”

            “It was admittedly difficult,” Waverly smirked, “Though only partly due to the nerves of the hunt,”

            Nicole smiled, reading into the meaning of Waverly’s words.

            _I make her nervous._ She thought.

            Waverly went inside and cooked them lunch while Nicole positioned various meat cuts in the smokehouse she had built. A select few cuts went into the cool springhouse for consumption later that evening and in the coming week.

            With the timing of a well-oiled machine, Nicole finished cleaning up right as Waverly finished lunch.

            They ate, both exhausted by the long night and early morning.

            “Where did you learn to hunt?” Waverly asked.

            “My dad used to take me and my brothers,” Nicole said.

            “It’s a good skill to have,”

            “Yes, it is,” Nicole added.

            Waverly scrunched up her face, “I realized I’ve never asked, where are you from?”

            “Northern Wisconsin,” Nicole said simply.

            “Did you live on a farm?”  
            “No, we actually lived in the city. But we relied a lot on hunting for food when my father got hurt cutting timber. It took him a while to recover enough to take a job in a paper mill,”

            “You’re father was a lumberjack?” Waverly asked.

            “You could say that. It wasn’t quite as poetic as they make it sound,” Nicole chuckled.

            “You are full of so many surprises,” Waverly shook her head.

            The sound of hooves drew both the women’s attention to the door. Nicole placed her hand on the handle of the hunting knife on her belt, cursing herself for not having her revolver with her. She looked out the window to see Wyatt Earp riding up the road.

            Nicole and Waverly walked outside to meet the man.

            “Waverly dear,” He looked at them both, “Doc and I have to ride out to another town to help. We will be gone for a night or two. If it isn’t too much to ask, I was wondering if she could stay here?” He asked addressing Nicole.

            “That isn’t too much to ask, I will happily host her,”

            “I just don’t want you to be at the homestead alone,” He said to his niece. He looked over at Nicole, “Please take care of my Waverly,”

            “Yes Sir,” she said.

            He bid the two goodbye and hurried back in the direction of the homestead.

            “I hope everything is ok,” Waverly said.

            “I’m sure your uncle and Doc will make sure it is,” Nicole comforted her.

            They quietly did chores around the homestead together. Nicole was struck by how nice it felt to have someone by her side. She had spent so long in solitude that she had forgotten was it felt like to have another person around.

            They headed back inside and Nicole boiled water for coffee as they cleaned up their lunch. They drank their coffee sitting by the fireplace. The sun had set and the only light in the house was cast by the fireplace and the lone kerosene lamp.

            “More banjo tonight?” Waverly asked hopefully.

            Nicole sighed. There was something about the way that Waverly looked at her that kept her from saying no. She grabbed the banjo and started up into a tune. Her fingers lightly danced over the fingerboard.

            Waverly closed her eyes, listening carefully to the complex sound. The banjo spoke to a different time and a different place in the world to Waverly, and there was something in the way Nicole played it that looked like it caused her pain and joy at once.

            Nicole set the banjo aside and sat back, letting herself relax.

            “What did you tell Wyatt that we were doing when you asked him to stay here?”

            “I told him you wanted to learn needlepoint,”

            Nicole laughed a hearty laugh, “Hopefully he doesn’t ask me to produce a needlepoint for him,”

            “I did bring the supplies, just in case he wondered,” Waverly said, “But you obviously you don’t have to partake,”

            Waverly worked on a needlepoint while Nicole read a book. They sat just enjoying each others company.

 

            That night Nicole began setting herself up on the couch when Waverly came out of the bedroom in a nightgown.

            “it’s rather cold tonight,” Waverly hugged herself as if to prove she was cold, “And your bed has more than enough room. We could share it if you would like,”

            Nicole was surprised and she could feel herself blush, “If you would like, I will,”

            They both headed to bed and Nicole cautiously pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. She kept still as Waverly entered the other side.

            Nicole was very aware of every move she made. She laid flat on her back with her hands folded on her stomach over the quilt, exactly half a foot from Waverly. Waverly was in a similar position. They both were so stiff and uncomfortable that it looked like two corpses in a double casket.

            Waverly sighed and took Nicole’s hand in hers before rolling over on her side, guiding Nicole’s arm around her.

            Nicole gulped, nervous and excited that maybe this was real. She scooted a bit closer to the girl that was now in her arms.

            Waverly moved back, relishing the warmth of another body so near her own. She held onto Nicole’s hand that was now around her waist. She was worried that if she let go, the ever-brave Nicole, might chicken out.

            They didn’t dare say a word.


	7. Chapter 7

            Nicole woke up with Waverly still in her arms. She would have thought it was just a wishful dream otherwise. Nicole was torn. She didn’t want to get up as it would end the moment and potentially wake up Waverly. But she also couldn’t stand the anxiety building inside of her.

            She pulled away from the sleeping women carefully. She got out of bed and started her morning routine. She fed the fire, put a kettle on and did some quiet housework.

            It didn’t take too long for Waverly to come out of the bedroom with a spare blanket wrapped around her slight frame.

            “Good morning, coffee is almost ready,” Nicole said, “How did you sleep?”

            “Very well,” Waverly took an empty mug and waited. Nicole steeped the grounds and they waited. The silence was awkward, or at least Nicole thought it was. They drank their coffee and ate breakfast together. After getting ready they dressed and started the chores. Waverly helped Nicole pick and clean the horse’s hooves and brush their thick winter coats. She even slipped them extra carrots when Nicole had her back turned.

            The sun began to melt the little bit of snow that had stuck around from the day before. They began to till up the area that Nicole had said she wanted to raise a garden. Nicole bit her shovel into the ground and leaned against it while watching Waverly work.

            “You are one of a kind,” Nicole said, “I just wanted to make sure you knew that,”

            “What prompted that?” Waverly asked, wiping loose hair from her face with the back of her hand.

            “I’ve just never met someone so bold and so properly ladylike at once. Someone so sophisticated and so unafraid of getting dirty,”

            “Yes, I’m the bold one,” Waverly said humorously, “This coming from the woman who wears men’s clothing and works as a secret agent,”

            “I’m not nearly as a rare as you though,”

            “Whatever you say. Nicole Haught, get back to work,” Waverly smirked.

            Later in the evening, Wyatt returned to collect his niece.

            “Thank you for looking after her,” Wyatt tipped his hat.

            Nicole continued on her chores, suddenly aware of how quiet and lonely the homestead was. She had traveled across the East with the US Army and roamed the Canadian plains hunting down fugitives with just one other person, but she was struck by how this was the first time in a long time she felt truly lonely.

            Waverly was sweet like berries. You never know how much you like the sweetness until you get the first taste.

 

           

            Nicole bolted upright out of her sleep. She heard the ringing of the gate bell. She swung her legs off the bed and grabbed the revolver from her bedside table. She flipped the cylinder out and checked that it was loaded, locking the cylinder back in place with a click. She ran out to the main room and stole a peek out the window. Three men, all with their faces covered, were standing on her porch.

            “Shit,” Nicole held up her gun and moved to the other side of the door so she could have a clear view when the door opened.

            She swallowed hard. There was a knock at the door.

            “Hello?” A voice came from the other side of the door, “I’m a neighbor, I need help, my barn is on fire!”  
            Nicole scoffed at the attempt to bait her outside. They continued to pound on the door. She winced when she heard the sound of a heavy body put its weight into the door.

 

            Thud.

               Thud.

                   Thud.

 

            “Out of my way!” She heard through the door.

            She heard the sharper sound of someone kicking at the deadbolt. Wood started splintering and Nicole cocked her gun and steeled herself. She knew that deadbolt couldn’t hold for forever.

            The door busted open and Nicole was quick on the draw, shooting the first man through the door.

            She felt the sharp pain of hitting the floor, the weight of a full-grown man on top of her. She heard the clatter of her gun sliding away on the rough wood floor.

            She grunted and threw the man off of her. She scrambled for the closest weapon she could find. She grabbed one of the chairs and smashed it against the head of the man who had been on top of her. It knocked him out cold. Nicole then turned her attention to the last guy standing. She grabbed the splintered leg of the chair and looked for her move.

            “Come on, girly,” the man said.

            She swung at him and he jumped back. She could make out the crinkle of a smile in the man’s eyes.

            She swung again and he grabbed the leg. That was her opening. She quickly grabbed the gun from his holster and cocked it in one fluid motion. She pressed the barrel to his chest and pulled the trigger. She could feel the heat of his blood on her. She took a step back and looked around. The man she had hit with the chair was crawling away.

            She grabbed his ankles, pulling him back towards her.

            “Why did you come here?” She asked, grinding her knee into his back.

            He squirmed but said nothing. She rolled him over and pulled the bandanna from his face.

            “Who sent you?” She asked.           

            The man grabbed the gun from his waist and before she could react he placed the barrel in his mouth and shot himself.

            Nicole sat back, breathing hard. She looked around. There were pieces of chair and wood splinters everywhere. There was a man facedown in a pool of blood; a second man slumped against the door jam and the man next to her who shot himself.

            She scrambled across the floor and grabbed her gun. She ran outside and checked to see if they had any back up hiding in the surrounding area. After making sure there weren’t she hastily threw a bridle on Gertie and rode out to the Earp property.

            “Sheriff Earp!” she called as she rode up.

            She slid off her horse and ran up the walk.

            “Sheriff Earp, I need some help!” Nicole stumbled up the walk.

            Wyatt came barreling out the door with a shotgun in hand.

            “What is going on?” he asked.

            “There was an incident at my place,”

            Wyatt looked at Nicole, taking in the sight of her. She was wearing a loose white shirt and pants, both where torn and covered in blood. A cut on her forehead was trickling blood down her face and her hair was down and loose, sticking to her face and neck.

            “What kind of incident?”

            “3 men broke in and tried to kill me,”

            “Where are they now?” Wyatt slipped on his boots and grabbed his hat.

            “Still there,”

            The way she said it made Wyatt understand what she meant, “Very well. Waverly!” he called.

            Nicole looked in the house and saw Waverly wrapped in a blanket looking confused and tired.

            “Take Marshal Haught inside, clean her up. I’ll go have a look,”

            Nicole all but collapsed into the chair Waverly offered her.

            “Oh my God, Nicole,” Waverly draped the blanket around Nicole’s shoulders.

            She then bustled around and got a wet cloth and started cleaning the blood off of Nicole.

            “This is a lot of blood,”

            “Most of it isn’t mine,” Nicole made eye contact with Waverly and it sent goose bumps erupting all over the smaller woman’s body. The look in he friends eyes said this was nowhere near the first time she was covered n someone else’s blood.

            “What happened?” Waverly asked.

            “3 men broke in, well first they tried to bait me to open the door,” Nicole winced as Waverly blotted at the wound on her forehead.

            “I’m glad you are ok. Do you know who they were?”

            “I’ve no idea, I have never seen any of them before,”

            Waverly went to get Nicole a change of clothes. She was shaking. The shift from the joy Waverly saw to the cold, hardened looking women sitting in her living room was jarring.

            She set the clothes down on the table, “These are some old clothes of Wyatt’s so I’m not sure how well they will fit. I’ll give you a moment to change,” She began to walk away.

            “Waves,” Nicole said softly, “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to, but I need some help,”

            In the time since she sat down, Nicole’s body had started to come down off the adrenaline and became to tighten up. She could barely move.

            “I’ve got you,” Waverly knelt in front of her.

            She gingerly lifted the torn and bloody shirt, helping Nicole out of it. She was careful not to look at the women’s bare skin. She slid one sleeve of the borrowed flannel up Nicole’s arm and then the other. She squared the collar like she was dressing a child before buttoning the shirt.

            “Pants next,” Waverly looked her fingers into his waistband and shimmed them down

            “You are going to have to give me a scooch,” Waverly said. She pulled down the pants and slipped new ones on.

            “There we go,” Waverly patted Nicole’s thigh comfortingly.

            “A perfect fit,” Nicole gave a hollow laugh as she held her arms up, noting how short the sleeves were on her arms.

            “It does look a little bit like you are expecting a flood,” Waverly nodded at the short pants.

            Waverly picked the blanket back up and wrapped it around Nicole.

            Wyatt came back through the door, “Have you ever seen any of those men before?”

            “No,” Nicole shook her head.

            “Well, you will stay here tonight, you can't go back there just yet. You really do know how to handle yourself,”

            “It is what Dolls and I train for,”

            “Waverly, please get Nicole something to eat and drink before she goes in to shock. I’m going to ride into town and get Doc and your Marshal. We will take care of the bodies and start to clean up,”

            “Thank you,” Nicole nodded.

            Waverly bustled around the kitchen making something for Nicole. She poured Nicole some tea and Nicole accepted it gratefully. As Waverly went to pull her hand away Nicole touched it lightly.

            “Thank you,” she said.

            Waverly could see that the kindness had returned to her friend’s eyes.

            The front door opened, blasting Nicole with cold air. A tall woman walked in. Her hair was a dark auburn, braided around her head. Her coat was pulled tight around her against the cold.

            “Doc brought me along to help,” the woman said, hanging her coat by the door.

            “Nicole, this is my big sister, Wynonna,”

            “What in Sam Hill happened?” Wynonna asked.

            Nicole recounted what happened.

            Wynonna opened a first aid kit and bandaged the cut on Nicole’s forehead.

            “Damn Bobo and his thugs,” Wynonna said simply.

            The name piqued Nicole’s interest, “You think Bobo Del Rey had something to do with this?”

            Wynonna nodded, “Willa came into town and said her husband had been complaining about the two marshals,” She looked at the cup, “What’s that? Tea? Baby girl, give her the good stuff,”

            Wynonna stood up and got a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard. She dumped the tea out and replaced it with whiskey.

            “Here you go, Red,”

            Nicole welcomed the bitter liquid.

            “Welcome to Purgatory,” Wynonna squeezed Nicole’s shoulder.

            Waverly crossed her arms leaning against the table, “Do you really think Bobo did this?”

            “It makes sense, doesn’t it? If I was him, I wouldn’t want any Marshals snooping around,”

            “He is of no interest to Dolls and me, at least not until he started screwing with me,”

            “Wyatt is sending the bodies back into town, I’ll check them out and see if they are Bobo’s guys. And I’ll see if Willa can talk some sense into that donkey’s hat of a husband,”

            Wynonna took the whiskey bottle and took a long deep pull straight from the bottle.

            Nicole picked at the food Waverly offered her. But she was hardly hungry.

            Later that night Wyatt, Doc and Dolls came back. Dolls waited outside.

            “Well, come on in Agent Dolls, no sense you standing out there,” Doc invited him in.

            “You ok, Agent Haught?” Dolls asked.

            “Yeah,”

            “I’ll try to identify those men. Did the one shoot himself?” Wyatt asked.

            “Yes, rather than answering my questions he shot himself,”

            “That is strange,” Doc leaned against the wall.

            Nicole sipped the whiskey, letting the alcohol provide the false sense of calm.

            “Let’s get Agent Haught to bed,” Dolls said.

            “That sounds like a good idea,” Nicole nodded.

            Dolls looped his arm under hers; helping lift her and providing support while Waverly led them to her bedroom. She laid down and Waverly tucked her in.

            Waverly and Dolls walked back out and Waverly helped her sister clean up. Doc let out a low whistle, “I underestimated your agent,” he said to Dolls, “But she clearly kicked absolute ass tonight,”

            “I recruited her for my taskforce for a reason. She is strong, determined and people tend to underestimate her,” he nodded, “Which is always a mistake,”

           

            Waverly went back into the bedroom and knelt next to the bed. She gently brushed loose hair out of Nicole’s face.

            “Thank you, Waverly,” Nicole said sleepily.

            “Anything for you. I’m glad you are ok,” she said before kissing Nicole’s forehead.

           


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one, but well worth it

            Nicole was scrubbing the floor for the fourth time. The bloodstains had faded but weren’t budging.

            “Maybe you should invest in a rug,” Waverly suggested. She had come over, volunteering to help clean up after the other night’s events.

            Nicole didn’t respond, she simply continued to furiously scrub the floor.

            “The bloodstains will be really hard to clean up if you continue to add new blood,” Waverly bent down in front of Nicole, grabbing her hands and lifting them, stilling them for a moment. She looked at the long fingers, cracked and starting to bleed from the long exposure to cleaning.

            “I just… I need this to be gone,” Nicole said looking to the side.

            “I know,” Waverly said. She didn’t let go of Nicole’s hands but held them tight.

            The contact washed over Nicole, almost relaxing her. She had been particularly on edge since the attack. She had faced raids before, rebels with bayonets, and hand to hand combat with an assailant, but none of that ever shook her as much as this shook her now.

            “This really got to your core,” Waverly said softly. It wasn’t a question, but confirmation for Nicole. Nicole nodded in agreement as she bit back tears. She wasn’t going to cry, not here, not in front of Waverly.

            “I've never had something like this happen in my home before,” Nicole looked up at Waverly, “What if they had come a day earlier, while you were here. I cannot fathom the idea that I put you in danger,”

            Waverly finally dropped Nicole’s hands and Nicole’s heart went sinking with it. Waverly immediately wrapped Nicole in a hug instead. She held the woman tight in her embrace.

            “Being friends with you is no more dangerous than living in the wilds of the Canadian plains. You make me feel safer, not more at risk,”

            “You didn’t answer my question, what would have happened if this happened while you were here?”

            “I would have grabbed the shotgun off your wall and provided back up,” Waverly loosened her grip a bit and looked at Nicole’s face, seeing a hint of a smile, “And if it was Bobo Del Rey’s men, they would no better than to touch a hair on my head,”

            “Why is that?”

            “Well, I’m his sister-in-law for one. But also, he’s always kind of had an obsession with me. It’s always been creepy but it has its benefits,” she conceded.

            Nicole made a mental note to look more into him. His name sure did come up a lot.

            She leaned into the women in front of her and placed her forehead against her shoulder. She shoved the thoughts of how this made her feel or how she really shouldn’t be allowing this deep down inside of her and let the warmth of Waverly wash over her.

           

            Waverly couldn’t stand seeing Nicole like this. She was surprised by how Nicole’s distress pulled on her heart so heavily. She wanted to protect the woman in her arms with all she had.

            “I'm just so tired,” Nicole said.

            “I know,” She ran her hands through Nicole’s hair.

            There was something desperate in the way Nicole said it. She lifted Nicole’s chin and looked into her eyes. Her eyes revealed sadness and fear, but something else too. Waverly’s eyes flickered down to Nicole’s lips.

            She closed the gap, kissing Nicole lightly on the lips. Nicole reached up and lightly cupped her cheek as they kissed.

            There was something so powerful, and yet so simple, about the kiss. It felt right, like it was meant to happen, but also felt like it carried so much weight for the two of them.

            Their lips parted and they rested their foreheads against the other, holding each other. Their breaths were short, hearts pounding in their ears.

            “I am so sorry,” Nicole said.

            Waverly pulled away slightly, but only slightly, “Sorry for what?”

            “About this,” she said, motioning between them.

            Waverly got a serious look on her face, standing and helping Nicole up. Once standing, Waverly pulled Nicole in again and kissed her hard.

            “Now, tell me, why are you sorry?” Waverly asked again while leading her over to the couch and sat down with her.

            “I shouldn’t have let you kiss me,” Nicole couldn’t look Waverly in the eye.

            “Did you ever think that maybe I kissed you because… I wanted to?” Waverly asked. She didn’t wait for a response, “Because I wanted to kiss you, I’ve wanted to kiss you,”

            “I’ve wanted to kiss you too,” Nicole said.

            “You are crazy and insane and absolutely beautiful,” Waverly lightly touched Nicole’s noise, “And I hate seeing you lost and sad. But I won’t run, I will be by your side,”

            “I..I… being around me puts you in direct danger,” Nicole said.

            “And I don’t care,” Waverly said, “So does living with Wyatt. He’s a marked man in this area. Nobody likes the sheriff in a lawless town. So you stop that right now,”

            Nicole chanced a smile. But she was cautious, “This isn’t… this won't be easy,”

            “You are getting ahead of yourself, Agent Haught,” Waverly feigned offense.

            Nicole started stammering, trying to backtrack.

            Waverly smiled at her softly, “I’m joking. But yes, let's not talk about that. Let’s take it a day at a time,”

            Nicole couldn’t believe the words she was hearing. This was unlike anything she ever thought she would be able to attain.

            “I’ll go get my needlepoint stuff, I’m not leaving you here alone tonight,” Waverly said standing up, “I’ll be back in an hour,”

            Nicole wasn’t in a position to argue. Once Waverly was out the door she knew there was something she had to do.

            She took out a pen and paper.

           

            _Dear Sarah,_

_I know it has been a long time since I wrote you. I hope this letter finds you well._

_In the years since I saw you l,ast I’ve tried many times to write this letter, but I never could find the words._

_You mean so much to me, and you always will. I sometimes wish I could have brought you with. But we both know that would have never worked out the way we hoped. But the time we spent together is something I will always carry in my heart. I think I can truly say you were my first love._

_I’m doing well. I have taken a job that I cannot tell you much about, but I can tell you that it pays well and I'm surely the first woman to hold this job. It is dangerous and sometimes so very lonely. It has brought me far and wide, but I’ve settled in a small town in the plains of the Canadian territory._

_As horrible as the War was, I'm glad it happened. Without it, I would have never met you or met my true self. Thank you for so much._

_Yours truly,_

_Nicole Rayleigh Haught_

Nicole placed it in an envelope and tucked it under the box on the mantle.

            When Waverly returned she had a crocheted rug rolled up and sticking out of her basket.

            “This should help,” Waverly unrolled it and placed it over the bloodstain on the floor.

            “Where did you get that?” Nicole asked.

            “From my bedroom at home. I’ll deal with cold feet in the morning until you can get your own. Now let's get some food into you,”

           

            Waverly changed the bandage on Nicole’s forehead by the firelight.

            “This is going to scar, I’m afraid,” Waverly said.

            “It won't be my first, it probably won't be my last,” Nicole said simply.

            “I almost forgot, you are tough Agent Haught, mysterious and dangerous,”

            That got a chuckle from Nicole.

           

            That night when they went to bed they laid down facing each other, stealing kisses. Nicole felt light, like she might float off. She prayed it wasn’t a dream. The soft touches, the hitched breaths; they were more than Nicole ever dreamed she would get again.

            Eventually, Waverly rolled over, wrapping Nicole’s arm around her.

            “Good night, Nicole,”

            “Good night, Waves,”

 

           


	9. Chapter 9

            Nicole woke up the next morning with an energy she wasn’t expecting. The emotional cloud of the previous days appeared to have lifted. She snuck out of bed and got out a pen and notebook. She began writing notes on all the extraordinary things that had happened since she got to Purgatory.

            Bobo was not a concern of hers…. Not until two nights ago.

            Two arms circled her shoulders and she felt a kiss pressed to her temple.

            “What are you up to so early?”

            “I’ve got work to do, and it isn’t going to do itself,”

            “Anything I can help with?”

            “Yes, actually,” Nicole said, “I need to know more about Bobo,”            

            “Nicole, are you sure you want to go down that road right now?”

            “Yes. I’ve at least got to answer some questions. I don’t want to dig, but if he is the one who orchestrated the attack on my home, I need to know more,”

            Waverly leaned against the table, “What do you want to know?”

            "What do I need to know?"

            “Well, Bobo Del Rey isn’t his real name. His given name is Robert Sven. He is an original family, meaning he was one of the first people to settle Purgatory. Bobo uses a ranch and stable as a front for his cattle rustling. He has a band of ‘ranch hands’ that do his bidding. They are the low of the low of Purgatory. Murders, rapists, thieves, the whole lot. And somehow my sister, Willa, fell in love with him,”

            “How does that impact your family?”

            “Well, I already mentioned that Wyatt turns a blind eye. He thinks the three of us girls hung the moon. As long as Bobo keeps a low profile and doesn’t make a spectacle, he’s willing to let some cases go unsolved,”

            “Has Wynonna said if she recognized any of the men?”

            Waverly shook her head, “She said he didn’t recognize any of them,”

            “Nuts, that would be too easy,” Nicole taped her pen against her chin.

            “Well,” Waverly propositioned, “To play devil's advocate, what if it wasn’t Bobo. Who else might send three armed men to kill you?”

            Nicole had thought about it, writing a list of seven men who may have ordered the hit. But none of them would have known where she lived, at least she prayed not.

            “Doing what I do, I don’t exactly make friends. I can think of a multitude who may want me dead. But in theory, none of them know I’m here,”

            “One of these days you will tell me what it is you do,”

            “I can't, and you know that,” Nicole said, “But I do help take care of bad men,”

           

            Later that day Nicole rode into town. She was back in the saddle, literally and figuratively. She decided the obvious choice was Shorty’s, so she tied her horse out front and went inside.

            “Well hello, Agent Haught,” Doc said from behind the bar, “What brings you in today?”

            “Looking for a drink and to pick your brain,” Nicole set her hat down on the barstool next to her.

            “What will it be?”

            “Whiskey please,” Nicole said.

            “Coming right up,” Doc said. He spun a bottle with a flourish and poured her a tumbler of mountain whiskey.

            “Thank you,” She slid payment across the bar.

            “So, now that the first need is satisfied,” He gestured towards the drink in her hand, “What can I do for you?”

            “I was wondering if anyone was able to identify those three thugs yet,”

            Doc leaned against the bar, “No, unfortunately not,”

            Nicole sipped the whiskey a second, “How is it that in such a small town has so many unknown people?’

            “It may be a small town, Agent Haught, but it is a place many pass through. Many people, good and bad, stop in Purgatory to resupplied and rest their head,”

            Nicole ran her fingers around the rim of the glass, “Is there any chance that Bobo Del Rey had anything to do with this?”

            “Yes, it would be possible. But I warn you, Agent Haught, if you go snooping you will not like the outcome,”

            Nicole nodded, “I just plan to figure out who tried to kill me. Now, it very well could be any of the people Dolls and I look for that could have planned it too. The problem is that none of them would know where to find me, but its very possible Bobo would be able to find where I live,”

            “I did do a little tracking when I first got to your place that night,” Doc said, “I am known for my tracking skills. The men came from the north, crossing into your land through the wheat fields. They circled around and approached your cabin from the East so that Wyatt wouldn’t be alerted. Either they knew Wyatt was your neighbor or at least that you had a neighbor. So they had done their research,”

            “So, I’ve got guys who know where I live and who did their research,” Nicole nodded. That wasn’t the description for most of the people she was after. There were certainly a few who would be able to, but most of them choose to run and hide instead.

            Wyatt walked through the front door.

            “I thought I might find both of you here. Need another favor, Agent Haught,” He sat down next to her.

            “You remember that sheep that was killed?” Wyatt asked Nicole.

            “I sure do,”

            “Well, the Adams' farm has had a similar situation,” Wyatt said, “3 sheep, mauled,”

            “Yes, well this is the west, Wyatt,” Doc said, “There are many predators on the plains,”

            “Yes, well, I would still like Agent Haught to go out and take a look. The Adams’ asked specifically for you, after what you did at Triangle Ridge Ranch,”

            “Sherriff Earp, I do love to help the community, but I’m not a coyote bounty hunter,”

            “No, not a coyote bounty hunter,” Wyatt smiled to himself, “But you might find the Adams… sympathetic to your cause,”

            Nicole looked at Wyatt with questioning eyes, “My cause?”

            “Yes,” He provided her with directions to the farm.

            Nicole downed her whiskey and went to head out.

            “Oh, how is your needlepoint coming along?” Wyatt asked before she walked out the door.

            “What?”

            “That Waverly has been teaching you?”

            “Oh right, yes well. I’m not very good at it yet, poke myself more than anything,” Nicole said.

            “Yes, well maybe it takes a while to pick up on,” Wyatt said, “I’ll be seeing you later,”

            Nicole mounted her horse and rode out to the Adams' farm. She walked up the front steps and knocked.

            “Hello?” Nicole called, “Agent Haught. Sheriff Earp sent me on his behalf,”

            A small woman bustled to the door, wiping her hands on her apron, “Oh, Ms. Haught, I’m glad to see you,” She stepped outside. Nicole resisted the urge to correct her.

            “I'm Mary Adams, my husband is Bart Adams. He should be out in the barn,”

            The women called out for her husband and an older man came walking out of the barn. He was tall and slender, his hair salt and peppered in a way that betrayed his age.

            “Agent Haught, I’m glad to see you,” He said holding out his hand.

            Nicole shook it heartily, “What can I do for you?”

            “I, I just wanted to say I heard about those thugs attacking you and I am sorry,” Mary Adams said.

            “Thank you,” Nicole said. _Sympathetic to your cause._

            “We heard about what happened out at Triangle Ridge Ranch. We lost four sheep over the last couple days, found three of them mauled by an animal,”

            “I am sorry to hear that. Where exactly did you find them?”

            “Up over that ridge, bout a mile, I can ride out with you,” He offered.

            “Lead the way,” she said.

            “I’ll just get my horse tacked up,” He said, slipping into the barn.

            They rode out to pasture where there were sheep grazing. They slowed as they neared a small form in the grass.

            “Son of a bitch,” Bart said as they rode up. It was another sheep, covered in blood.

            Nicole dismounted; it wasn’t fresh, but fresh enough. It was clearly half eaten.

            “Is this the missing fourth?” She asked.

            “No, look, its got a black spot on its head, we only got one that look like that,” He wiped away a tear and Nicole pretended not to notice, “This is a new one,”

            Nicole looked around the body and looked for footprints. Sure enough, there were some coyote prints.

            “Coyote was out here,” Nicole said, looking up, squinting into the sunlight, “Do you have any hands? A Sheppard or anything guarding the herd?”

            “Ive got a herd dog, shes supposed to guard the heard, you can see her up there, tending to keeping them together,” He pointed up to a large white dog with lots of fur.

            The man whistled to call the dog in but the dog acted as though it didn’t hear.

            Nicole tilted her head, the wind was blowing into their faces, “Maybe the wind is preventing it from carrying?”

            She got on her horse and rode up to the dog. She whistled but nothing. Bart was not far behind her.

            She got off her horse and whistled again and got nothing. The big white dog kept weaving and dodging to keep the sheep together.

            “When was the last time you saw the dog?” She asked.

            “It’s been a couple days since I called her in. She comes to the house to eat, the wife usually feeds her,” He said as he got down off the horse.

            The dog saw her owner and trotted over, tail wagging. Bart kneeled down and patted the big dog, “What is going on, girl?”

            Nicole saw blood on the white fur. She knelt down next to Bart and examined the dog; there was dried blood around her ear. Nicole looked in the ear, seeing dried blood all inside the canal.

            “Odd,” Nicole said. She checked the other ear, a similar treatment. She pulled her gun from its holster and stood, “I'm going to try something,”

            She walked out a couple feet and fired her gun into the air.

            The dog barely flinched.

            “Something or someone made this dog deaf,” Nicole said, “She won't hear anyone or anything coming,”

            “What would have done this?” Bart asked.

            Nicole looked around, hands on her hips in a way that flared her jacket out behind her, “I think it’s more of a whom,”

            “Who would do this?” He asked, becoming agitated.

            “That is a great question,” Nicole nodded, “I would recommend retiring her and getting a new dog or a person to guard the sheep. I’ll help you do a head count. How many are supposed to be out here?”

           

            Nicole helped Bart count the heard. They came up with an extra 14 missing sheep.

            “So where did they go? I'm out almost 20 goats,”

            “Can you think of anyone out here who might have taken them?”

            “What?” he looked at her incredulously.

            “Well, I don’t think they decided to take a vacation,” Nicole said, “Can you think of anyone who might have taken them? Anyone who might be into livestock theft?”

            “Yeah, I can think of someone,” Bart said running his hand through his hair, “That no good Bobo,”

            “What makes you think that?” Nicole asked.

            “He’s stolen from me before,” Bart said, his voice shaking with anger.

            “Has he?” Nicole asked.

            “Yeah, couple years back he rustled my cattle and got me through a loophole in the law. I sold the rest of them and switched to a new animal in hopes he would leave me alone. But he's been ‘buying’ sheep for a while now,” Bart said.

            Nicole patted the dog next to her, “Why don’t we take these on down to the pasture near your house so you can keep an eye on them,”

            Nicole helped heard the sheep and get the dog back to the house. She cleaned up the dogs' ears and laid down a blanket for it to curl up on.

            “I made a pot roast, and there is more than enough to share. Please, come in and join us for supper,” Mary asked.

            “That is very kind, I would love to,” Nicole nodded, following the couple inside. She noticed a photo on a table by the entryway. It was a young man with a stoic face dressed in a Union army uniform. _Sympathetic to your cause._

            “Did your son serve in the War?” Nicole asked.

            “Yes,” Mary bustled around, putting the food on the table, “After the war, we moved up here as a family,”

            “Does he live here with you?” Nicole tried to help Mary before she got shooed away.

            “You are a guest, I won't let you help,” Mary smiled softly, “He doesn’t live with us anymore. He works for and lives with Bobo and his thugs,”

            Nicole could hear the venom in her words. Clearly, it was something his mother wasn’t happy with.

            “Where did you move up here from?” Nicole asked.

            “We moved up from Missouri. Or son fought and was on the winning side, but that didn’t stop all the raids and barn burning that happened,” Bart said, “It, in fact, encouraged it,”

            Nicole nodded. She had heard about how hard life in Missouri and Kansas was for people who openly opposed the bringing of slavery to the state, including a family member fighting for the Union.

            They sat around the table and the conversation came to a pause as they said grace and passed the food around.

            “I know we shouldn’t talk work at the table,” Bart said as he looked at his wife apologetically, “But it is probably the most efficient way to do it. Our son, William, got sucked in with Bobo’s gang. He was struggling with not knowing what to do with himself after the war,”

            “Do you know what he does for Bobo?” Nicole asked.

            Bart shook his head, “No, after he left us for Bobo I told him not to come back. I won't have an outlaw as a son,”

            The table fell silent as they ate.

            “Ya know, I'm looking into getting a dog,” Nicole said leaning back, “Did you get your dog up here or bring her from down south?”  
            “Oh, she came with us. She was William’s puppy,” Mary said.

            Nicole steered away from the topic of conversation, not wanting to tip them off too much or anything.

            “Thank you so much for dinner. It reminded me very of my Mamma’s cooking, and I needed that right about now,” Nicole nodded and put her hat on.

            “Stay safe, Ms. Haught,”

            “Thank you,” Nicole mounted her horse and rode to Triangle Ridge Ranch. She had a theory to check up on. She approached the farm and found Bill Johnson coming out of his barn.

            “Hello, sir, I was hoping to follow up with you about the sheep,”

            “I haven’t lost any more since you shot that coyote,” He spit off to the side.

            “When I was out watching your heard I noticed something, that I didn’t think of at all before, but I now have reason to think might be something,” Nicole explained, “is your herd dog out there now?”

            “Yes,” he confirmed. He looked confused and skeptical.

            “I would like to see the dog,” she said.

            “Be my guest,” He said. He got a horse ready and they rode out together.

            He whistled to call the dog in but it didn’t respond, “Well that’s weird,”

            He tried calling the dog again and it didn’t respond.

            “That is what I thought, I’m going to try something,” Nicole took out her revolver and shot into the air. The sheep scattered, startled by the sound, but the dog only moved in reaction to the sheep moving out of formation.

            “What is going on?” Bill asked.

            “See if you can get a hold of the dog. I got called out to the Adams’ farm and found someone had injured their dog in a way that made it deaf. It would never hear predators or strange people coming from behind to kill or steal from the herd,”

            The man caught the dog and Nicole examined the ears. Sure enough, the one still had a little dried blood, “Looks like your dog was deafened too,”

            “But why?”

            “I can help you do a head count to see if any have gone missing,” Nicole offered.

            “No that’s ok, we are doing that tomorrow anyway. If I am missing any, I will let Wyatt know,”

            “Ok, sounds good. I’ll let you know if I find anything else out,” Nicole said as she rode back to town.

 

            She went straight back into Shorty’s. It was far more populated than when she was in there before, bustling with men who had finished their work for the day.

            “Back so soon?” Doc said.

            “Yes. Can I ask a favor?” Nicole asked.

            “But of course,” Doc said.

            “I need to find a William Adams,” Nicole said.

            “He doesn’t come around here, we are too tame for his crowd,” Doc said, motioning around the bar, “You can usually find him at Willow’s. It's more a bordello than a bar, per se. I would recommend taking myself or Wyatt. I know you can handle yourself, but I fear any woman in that place is in danger,”

            “Can you go now?” She asked.

            “I was just about to go home, I’ll get my coat,” He disappeared into the back room. He left the keys with the other barkeep.

            They walked down the main street on their way to Willow’s.

            “What do you want with William Adams?” Doc asked.

            “Well, Wyatt has been sending me on calls for mauled sheep, and as much as I find the task below my talents,” Nicole said, “I am happy to help these families. While I was out at the ranches today I found an interesting connection. Both herd dogs had been injured in a way that caused them to be deaf. They didn’t hear me coming. The Adams are short nearly 20 sheep,”

            “And because William runs with Bobo and had access, you think he had something to do with it?” Doc asked.

            “Yes,” Nicole nodded.

            “Going after one Bobo Del Rey is a dangerous road,” Doc warned.

            “That is what I’ve been told,” Nicole nodded, “But I also will not ignore what is going on in Purgatory,” Nicole said.

            “I'm sure Waverly told you her eldest sister is married to him, correct?”

            “Yes she did,” Nicole said, “So did Wynonna. But I have no other choice at this point,”

            They walked into the bordello. It was dimly lit and women and men milled around. Every so often a pair would head upstairs.

            “That is your man over there,” Doc said pointing to a scruffy man in the corner. A woman in a smart green dress was sitting in his lap.

            “I do hate to ruin his evening,” Nicole said, pretending to hesitate for a second before marching over to him.

            “William Adams?” Nicole asked, flashing her badge.

            The woman scrambled off his lap and high tailed it away.

            “Hey!” he grumbled, “Who’s asking?”

            “US Marshal Special Agent Nicole Haught,”

            “Yeah, I'm William, what do you want?”

            “I’ve just got a couple of questions to ask, William,” Nicole sat down next to him, “I was out at your parent’s farm earlier today. That dog out there, she yours?”

            “No, she’s my parent’s. But I raised her,”

            “Have you been home recently? Visited your parents or the dog maybe?”

            “No, why?”

            “Well... a couple of your parents' sheep have wound up killed. And I helped your dad do a head count and an additional 14 sheep have gone missing,”

            “Sounds like this areas got a coyote problem,” he said.

            “Well, I noticed something peculiar,” Nicole said, “Someone hurt that dog, made it so it can't hear,”

            “What are you talking about?” He said.

            “Someone injured that dog's ears so it couldn’t hear anyone coming,”

            “And you think I have something to do with it?” he asks.

            “Should I?”

            “No,” he said less than convincingly.

            “Ok,” Nicole nodded, “In that case,”

            She stood, Doc looking at her in confusion. He expected more questions, or at least tougher questions.

            “I will leave you be. If you suddenly remember your involvement, you know where to find me,”

            “I sure do,” He said when Nicole turned her back. Nicole turned around slowly as he continued speaking, “And Bobo warned me you might come snooping around. Watch yourself, Haught,” He snickered.

            “Have a good night,” Nicole walked out with Doc following close behind.

            “Forgive me, Nicole, but what was that?”

            “He let me know everything I needed to know,” She said as they walked, “He knows where to find me, and Bobo told him I might come snooping. So that confirms Bobo ordered the attack on my house. And could also mean Bobo knows about my helping the families. I would assume that was the motivation, he doesn’t want anyone looking into these dogs,”

            “IT is a sly ploy,” Doc agreed.

            “Bobo is going to regret the day he inserted himself into my life,” Nicole said as she unhitched Gertie and waited a beat before climbing into the saddle.

            “I warned you, Nicole,” Doc admonished, “But if you need backup… I'm willing to help,”

            She gave Doc a nod of thanks before hoisting herself into the saddle and riding towards the homestead.

           

           

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok... I know its been a long while since I updated this... and I am so sorry! I haven't been well and despite having the rest of this story well outlined and also well established in my head I really just couldn't write. This chapter falls a bit below my standard, but the next one will be wonderful I promise!

            Nicole found herself slumped into the couch in front of the fireplace. She was tired. Winter had taken hold, and the barren plains were unforgiving this time of year. It was the slow season. There was little to be done outside. Traditionally Dolls and her took a small hiatus from tracking until after Christmas, even the damned deserve a break.

            The chill outside had seeped into her bones in a way it didn’t usually. Maybe it was her age or maybe it was her growing weary of the tough life she led.

            But this winter was different. Waverly was sitting on the couch next to her, reading a book. Nicole looked at her. Her presence helped dissipate some of the cold that had leached into her aching skeleton.

            Waverly put her book aside, “How are you?”

            They hadn’t seen much of each other in the handful of weeks since they shared their first kiss. Wyatt had had to head out of town again and begrudgingly allowed Waverly to stay with Nicole despite his best judgment.

            “Exhausted,” Nicole admitted. She had spent the last two hours chopping firewood to feed her smokehouse.

            Waverly leaned over, tucking loose auburn strands behind Nicole’s ear, “Why don’t you go get cleaned up for dinner. I’ve got a kettle on for warm water for you,”

            “Thank you,” Nicole melted into the contact. Waverly softly brushed Nicole’s arm before kicking her off the sofa.

            Waverly had already prepared the bulk of their supper but just needed to heat some of it. She bustled around the kitchen and set the table while Nicole washed up and changed into clean clothes.

            Nicole came out and quietly watched Waverly work.

            “Are you going to just stare or help?” Waverly said over her shoulder.

            Nicole blushed, embarrassed at being caught.

            They sat across the rough-hewn table from each other. The sight of Waverly on the other side of the table relaxed Nicole. Dare she say, she was happy. They bowed their head while Waverly said grace.

            “Thank you, Waverly. I’ve eaten better in the last 3 months than I did for the previous 6 years,”

            “Is Dolls that bad of a cook?” Waverly smirked.

            “Yes, it wasn’t helped by being on the move so much,”  
            “Ah, yes,” Waverly nodded, “I’m glad to have someone to cook for. Wyatt usually doesn’t get home for dinner,”

            After their meal, they cleaned up side by side before retiring to the couch, each with a book in hand. Waverly leaned into Nicole as they read their respective books. Nicole held her book with one hand and absent-mindedly rubbed soothing circles on Waverly’s arm. The intimacy they shared was natural and easy.

            Nicole was engrossed in her novel; so much so that she didn’t notice Waverly had put her book down. Waverly turned to face Nicole, grabbing the book from her hands and setting it down before kissing a surprised Nicole.

            Waverly found her way into the lap of a dumbfounded Nicole.

            The kisses were soft and slow. Waverly grabbed Nicole’s hands, which had been resting limply at her side, and placed them on her hips. Nicole lightly gripped her waist, pulling Waverly towards her. Waverly laced her fingers through red hair.

            Nicole picked up the pace, slipping her tongue past Waverly’s lips, spurred on by the movements of Waverly’s body.

            Waverly’s hand moved to Nicole’s neck, she could feel how Nicole’s pulse felt under her touch. Her lips replaced her hand. Nicole leaned her head back, eyes closed.

            Waverly wasn’t used to being so relaxed at the touch of a lover. Champ had always been rough and demanding in the moments they steeled away. But Nicole was almost painfully respectful. But if Waverly knew anything, it was that she never wanted anyone, anything, as much as she wanted Nicole.

            But the thought of that and a soft moan from Nicole brought Waverly back to the world. She took stock of what she was doing. Her lips were locked with the redhead and her hand was cupping her breast through her men’s work shirt.

            Waverly moved her hand to Nicole’s shoulder and slowed their kisses down before pulling away, resting her forehead against Nicole’s.

            “That was a surprise,” Nicole said in a breathy tone.

            Waverly laughed coyly, “I’m full of surprises,”

            “I am not complaining,” Nicole kissed her lightly, “but we should probably get ready for bed,”

            Waverly stood up, helping Nicole up off the couch. Nicole stoked the fire as Waverly blew out the kerosene lamps. They went into the bedroom and changed into sleeping clothes. Waverly couldn’t resist the urge to sneak a glimpse of Nicole as she undressed. Nicole’s skin was impossibly porcelain-like, with only the smallest of spots dotted with freckles from sun exposure. She blushed as she looked away, shrugging on her nightgown. They got into bed and Nicole wrapped Waverly in her arms.

            “Nicole,” Waverly said just above a whisper.

            “Yes, Waves?”

            She hesitated for a moment, “Can I tell you something?”

            “Of course,” Nicole hummed.

            “I have never felt this way about someone before, especially not a woman,”

            Nicole gently ran her hand up and down Waverly’s arm, “I care for you very much,”

            “Have you ever felt this way before?” Waverly asked.

            Nicole was quiet for a moment. This conversation highlighted the age gap between them, Waverly sounded so small at the question. Nicole weighed her options as far as telling her about her past.

            “I did tell you a half truth when I said I had never courted, proper like,” Nicole said softly, “Well, I did have a suitor when I was a teen, he was a good boy, but he is not what I wanted. I felt almost nothing for him. But there was a girl, almost 5 years ago,”

            “Did you love her?” Waverly asked, afraid of the answer.

            Nicole nodded, “In many ways, I still do. She was my first love, I’m not sure I could ever forget her,”

            Waverly let out a shaky breath, snuggling back into Nicole more. There was a stretch of silence, and Nicole felt as though she may have said too much.

            “Have you ever…” Waverly dropped off the question but Nicole could still understand what she was asking.

            “Yes,”

            “I’ve never,” Waverly admitted.

            Nicole kissed Waverly’s shoulder blade, “That’s ok. Waves, I would never ask you to do anything you don’t want to or aren’t ready for. I don’t ever want you to feel pressured. This is on your time,”

            “Thank you, Nicole,” Waverly brought their intertwined fingers up to her lips, pressing a kiss to the back of Nicole’s hand, “For the record, I want to, I’m just not ready,”

            Nicole swallowed hard, “Well, you know where to find me when you are ready,”

            Waverly let a yawn escape, earning her a chuckle from Nicole, “I think it might be time we sleep,”

            “Goodnight, Nicole,”

            “Goodnight, Waves,”

 

 

            Waverly woke up first to the cold. The covers were pushed down and it was far too cold for that. She then noticed Nicole’s body, thrashing in her sleep.

            “Sarah!” Nicole shouted, balled fists pressed into the mattress. Waverly could feel the worry deep in her core. She tried to shake Nicole awake, eventually eliciting the same reaction she had last time this had happened.

            “What’s happening? What’s wrong?” Nicole asked, pushing away from the women in her bed.

            “You were having a nightmare,” Waverly said calmly, trying to keep her voice soothing.

            Nicole blinked the images of the nightmare out of her eyes. Sarah had been standing in the middle of the battlefield, bullets whizzing by Nicole as she ran towards her.

            Nicole tried to control her breathing, “I am sorry, Waverly,”

            “it’s ok,” Waverly said, rubbing soothing circles on the elder woman’s back, “It’s going to be ok,”

            Once Nicole calmed down she laid back down on her back, guiding Waverly to lay on her chest, holding her close.

            “I’m really sorry for waking you, Waverly,”

            “You hardly have control over it,” Waverly said, “but if I may ask, what was the dream about?”

            Waverly could feel the woman beneath her stiffen, “I would rather not say,”

            “When you are ready, if you ever are, you can talk to me. But only when you are ready,”

            Nicole kissed the top of her head before they both drifted back to sleep.

 

           The next morning they were eating breakfast when Nicole heard the jingle of the gate bell. She grabbed her gun, slinking towards the front door and checked out

the window. Waverly watched, she could see there was some deep dark trauma in Nicole, something deeper than the attack on her home weeks ago. This was an old

habit. Nicole un-cocked her gun and holstered it before opening the door. Wynonna breezed in, “Good morning you two,” She said greeting them, “I thought I would

stop by. Uncle Wyatt said you were staying here,” 

            “Would you like some coffee?” Nicole asked.

            “Yes, thank you,” Wynonna said. She sat down across from Waverly at the table.

            “To what do we owe the pleasure, Wynonna?” Waverly asked.

            “I thought Red here might like an update,” Wynonna said, accepting the cup of coffee with a thank you. She took a sip, “Haught damn, is this Yankee coffee?”

            “Yes ma’am,” Nicole said.

            “The good shit,” Wynonna said, taking a gulp.

            “Wynonna! Language!” Waverly admonished her, “I’m sorry, my sister isn’t usually so crass,” Waverly apologized.

            Wynonna looked between the two women, “Oh, baby girl, don’t lie to her,”

            Nicole smiled at the banter, “Well, Wynonna, what is the update?”

            “I talked to Willa, Bobo finally let her into town,”

            “He makes my skin crawl,” Waverly admitted.

            “She is pregnant,” Wynonna sneered.

            Waverly’s jaw fell open, “No,”

            “Well they have been married for almost 3 years, it was about time. People were starting to talk. But I also got a chance to talk to her. She said she had convinced him to stop stirring up trouble, at least until after the holidays,” Wynonna nodded as though she had done something significant to help.

            “Even mob bosses have families and need a holiday,” Nicole nodded.

            “Speaking of. I understand you and your Marshal are here far from family for Christmas, and I insist that you join us,”

            “I cannot speak for Dolls, but I would love to join you guys, as long as I’m not imposing,” Nicole agreed.

            Waverly smiled so hard it nearly split her face in two, “Oh that will be lovely!”

            “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a proper Christmas,” Nicole admitted.

            “I do have to warn you,” Wynonna said, “Bobo will most likely be there, he will be on his best behavior I’m sure. But he will try to get under your skin, I promise you that,”

            Nicole let out a low whistle, “That is a curveball, Wynonna,”

            “He may have tried to have you killed, but even Bobo Del Rey has an ethical code, he won't kill you on Christmas, at the very least not in front of the family,”

            “Oh, I’m not concerned with him trying to kill me, I am confident I could run circles around a solo Bobo,” Nicole smirked at the rhyme, “What I’m concerned about is him setting up an ambush,”

            “John Henry and Wyatt will be there, and I am sure they would be happy to escort you home and check the place out before they leave,” Wynonna offered.

            Nicole thought about it for a minute, taking a sip of her own coffee, “Ok, you convinced me, I will come,”

            Wynonna looked back and forth between Nicole and her sister. The way her little sister looked at Nicole boarded on admiration and… something else she couldn’t put her finger on.

            “Well,” Wynonna stood, “Thank you for the Yankee coffee, Red. I’ll be heading home. We will be seeing you next week,”

            “It was my pleasure,” Nicole said as she walked Wynonna to the door.

            “See you later, baby girl,” Wynonna bid farewell to her sister.

            “Goodbye, Wynonna,” Waverly waved as her sister headed outside and Nicole closed the door.

            Waverly stood, walking towards Nicole, warping her arms around her neck and gave her a light peck, “The best Christmas gift I could think of is you coming to Christmas,”

           

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next we get Christmas in March... and we meet one Bobo Del Rey...


	11. Chapter 11

            Nicole was nervous. She smoothed her skirt with her hands. It had been a long time she had worn one. She hadn’t had an occasion since she and Dolls met with Canadian officials in Ottawa years ago.

            Despite the high collar, long sleeves, and floor length skirt, Nicole felt weirdly naked. The slightly faded navy blue fabric looked a little too much like her old uniform coat.

            She put the finishing touches on her hair and double-checked her revolver tucked into the ankle holster inside of her boot and the knife sheathed in the waistcoat of her dress.

            She could hear horses approaching and donned her coat; grabbing the back with the modest gifts she could muster on short notice before walking outside just as Wyatt’s cart pulled up to her land.

            “Merry Christmas!” he called. She could tell by the twinkle in his eye that there was a smile behind the grandiose mustache on his face.

            “Merry Christmas!” Nicole said as she approached.

            Waverly moved over on the bench seat, opening space for Nicole to sit.

            “You look splendid,” Waverly said, “Who knew you owned a dress?”

            “I do, on occasion, have reason to clean up well,”

            “I’m glad you decided to join us,” Wyatt said, the twinkle in his eye was matched by the slight lilt to his voice, “No one should spend Christmas alone,

            “Thank you for having me, I greatly appreciate it,”

            The conversation came to a halt as the horses pulling the cart picked up pace. The sharp winter wind bit at their faces. When they pulled into town Wyatt drew the horses to a stop in front of Shorty’s.

            The saloon was closed for the day, but there was clearly life inside.

            Nicole exited the cart and offered her hand to Waverly as the shorter woman stepped down from the cart.

            They walked through the ornate double doors into a saloon transformed. Tinsel and paper banners hung from the ceiling, streamers winding around the support beams. A tree in the corner glistened, covered in ornaments and something sparkly. There were even stockings hung by a roaring fireplace.

            “Wyatt!” Wynonna greeted her uncle with a hug, “Waverly and Nicole, I’m glad you made it,”

            A blast of cold air announced the arrival of another guest.

            “I hope I am not late,” Dolls said as he hung his hat on a hook by the door.

            “Right on time, actually,” Nicole greeted him with a hug.

            He was in a suit that could only be described as his Sunday best. It was nice, but clearly second hand. Nonetheless, it fit him well.

            His eyes were about the size as saucers as he looked at Nicole, “Agent Haught, you look nice,”

            Nicole blushed lightly, “Thank you, Xavier,”

            They all headed towards the bar were Doc was mixing drinks for the crowd.

            “Per usual, Willa and Bobo are probably going to be late,” Wynonna snorted.

            “He does run on his own clock,” Doc said handing her a glass.

            Nicole sipped the spiked eggnog and went to Dolls.

            “Bobo Del Rey is coming? Does he know we are here?” He asked.

            “I’m not sure,” Nicole admitted.

            “We will just have to play it by ear,”

            Nicole nodded before going to help Waverly and Wynonna set the large table, draped in a luxurious tablecloth.

            Everyone stopped and looked up when the front door opened abruptly. A man stood in the doorway, a fur coat draped over him, leather riding boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He had an eccentric hairstyle, shaved to the skin everywhere but the top of his head. His jet-black hair was brushed back loosely, almost reminding Nicole of a bird. His beard had a solid white patch in it, giving him a very distinct style.

            “Don’t worry, the party has arrived,” He said as he slinked down the steps into the saloon.

            “It’s ok Robert, I didn’t need any help,” The woman behind him said, closing the door.

            She was unmistakably an Earp. None of the sisters looked particularly similar, but they all shared enough to clearly have a similar lineage.

            “Ahh, I see we invited the US Marshals,” he snapped his teeth together.

            “This is Xavier Dolls and Nicole Haught,” Wynonna introduced them.

            “I’m familiar with your… work,” He said looking both of them in the eye before extending a hand to shake, “Charmed,”

            “Likewise,” Nicole said flatly.

            “I’m Willa Sven,” the woman pushed past her husband and shook their hands.

            “Nice to meet you,” Dolls nodded.

            Bobo sauntered up to the bar, sprawling himself into a bar stool, “Scotch, straight,”

            “You know, I’m not the bartender tonight,” Doc said, setting the bottle and a glass in front of Bobo but making no move to pour it. Instead, Doc followed Wynonna into the kitchen to check on the meal.

            Bobo grabbed the bottle and used his teeth to open the bottle before flamboyantly pouring himself a generous amount of scotch.

            Nicole was not sure what she had expected of someone named Bobo Del Rey, but this was not what she had imagined.

            “Robert, manners,” Willa said, kissing his cheek while re-corking the bottle.

            “Right, dear,” he smiled.

            Everything about him made Nicole’s skin crawl.

            Waverly took Nicole by the hand, “Help me grab something from downstairs for Wynonna,”

            Nicole dumbly followed Waverly down the steps into the cellar. It was musty and dark, only the light from the cellar window wells illuminated the boxes and shelves downstairs.

            “What are we looking for?” Nicole asked.

            “Wynonna asked for some preserves she keeps down here. But I also just wanted a moment alone with you,” Waverly said, quickly identifying the preserves her sister had requested and setting them aside.

            Waverly leaned up, kissing Nicole, pushing her back into the stairwell.

            “You look beautiful,” Waverly said after she pulled away.

            “It’s nothing special,” Nicole looked down, “You look stunning as always,”

            Waverly tilted Nicole’s chin up with a soft touch, “Don’t do that, you _are_ special,”

            “We probably should be getting back upstairs,”

            The two headed back up, and Waverly handed the preserves over to Wynonna, “You two should really consider cleaning that cellar up,”

            “Still afraid of the dark, baby sister?” Bobo asked.

            “No,” Waverly said defiantly.

            He studied them both, recognition passed in his eyes, of what he didn’t say. Nicole swallowed hard but kept her composure.

            “So,” He spun around, walking to the table and plucking a cookie off the platter his wife had set there, “How exactly did you two become Marshals?” He asked waiving the cookie back and forth between Dolls and Nicole.

            Nicole knew this drill, “He recruited me. I had a… reputation,”

            “And I was handpicked after I showed my worth during the War,” Dolls said.

            “Right, the War,” Bobo nodded, “So you got picked,” he pointed at Dolls, “And then picked her. Why?”

            Dolls and Nicole gave each other a look, “She was known for being tough, smart and a hell of a shot in her area. So I picked her up on my way north,”

            “And what is it exactly that you two do?” he asked.

            “We are a part of a cross border task force, on a joint mission between the Canadian government and the United States of America. The rest is classified,” Nicole said.

            “I see,” Bobo took a bite of cookie and chewed it thoughtfully, “Just seems odd,”

            Nicole and Waverly helped Wynonna bring the food out to the table.

            They took their seats around the table. Wyatt sat at the head of the table with Doc opposite him at the other end. To Wyatt’s right was Bobo then Willa and Wynonna. Nicole had the misfortune of sitting directly across from Bobo. Waverly sat between Dolls and Nicole.

            They all joined hands and Waverly led them in prayer asking God to bless their meal and for protection for her friends and family.

            Wyatt lifted his drink, “Merry Christmas to my lovely family, and to our new friends,”           

            The group toasted. Bobo made a show of throwing back his drink quickly and refilling his glass.

            They fell quiet as everyone passed around the food. Wynonna had managed to not completely ruin the meal this year. She had prepared a turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans, gravy, and fresh biscuits.

            “Wynonna, I’m impressed,” Waverly said.

            “You didn’t even light anything on fire this year,” Doc said proudly.

            “Mother would have been proud,” Will reached over and touched Wynonna’s hand.

            Nicole noticed Waverly looking down at her lap.

            Wyatt spoke up, “Waverly, dear. You did a wonderful job decorating. It’s very festive in here,”

            “Thank you, Uncle Wyatt,”

            “Not as nice as when I did It last year, but nice,” Willa said raising her glass to her littlest sister.

            “Thanks, Willa,” Waverly said half-heartedly.

            “It is certainly nice to have a proper Christmas,” Nicole said, “I haven’t had one since before the war,”

            “Speaking of,” Bobo said around a bite of turkey, “I bet you two were excited to hear Ulysses S Grant won the presidency,”

            Dolls nodded, “Certainly,”

            “My brother had the pleasure of meeting him before being mustered out after he lost his arm,” Nicole said.

            Nicole couldn’t help but feel like Bobo was fishing for information about the Marshals. She didn’t want to give him too much.

            “Oh my, Nicole. I didn’t know he was injured,” Waverly lightly touched Nicole’s arm.

            “Yeah, my family was forever changed by the war,” Nicole admitted.

            “That’s… unfortunate,” Bobo said.

            Bobo had a particular cadence to his speech that intrigued Nicole. She couldn’t place an accent or region on his intonation or phrasing; it was uniquely Bobo.

            “Enough about us though,” Nicole said, “Bobo, where are you from?”

            “Here, and there. I never stayed in one place long growing up,”

            “Like?” Nicole pushed.

            “Robert lived in Kansas before he came to Purgatory,”

            “Hopefully you got out before everything turned south there,” Nicole said.

            “I did,” He nodded, “But I had friends who died at the hands of bushmen,” he said, “I also had friends who died at the hands of Yankee soldiers,”

            Nicole nodded, “The war divided many families and many relationships,”

            Wynonna, unsure of what exactly was happening steered the conversation towards the business and how the saloon was doing well now that they rented out rooms.

            Nicole was glad for the reprieve from the interrogation. She remained quiet as she finished her meal. Once everyone was done eating Doc tended to the fire as Wynonna, Waverly, and Willa cleaned up the table. Nicole moved to help but Waverly shooed her away.

            “You are our guest, now get,”

            Nicole sat in an overstuffed armchair next to the fire, conscious to sit properly in her dress. Dolls occupied the chair next to her.

            “He is an odd one,” Dolls said quietly as they watched Bobo play a game of billiards against himself.

            “He has a flair for the dramatic. He almost comes off as silly, but I can tell he’s not to be underestimated,” Nicole agreed.

            “He said he was familiar with our work,” Dolls said, “Do you think he is referencing your moonlighting with Wyatt Earp or our actual work?”

            Nicole looked down at the glass in her hand. She hadn’t really had time to think about it too much after he said It, “Hopefully just my work, but I think it could be both. He said he had friends on both sides… it's possible he’s heard of the bounty hunters…”

            “You are right,” Dolls nodded, sipping dark liquid from his glass, “We should make sure we are extra careful,”

            Nicole nodded in agreement as she watched the sisters bustle around cleaning up the Christmas feast.

            Once the tidying was done Waverly initiated the distribution of gifts for everyone to open.

            First Nicole handed Waverly her gift, “There was no good way to wrap it,”

            Waverly took the small wooden figure from Nicole. It was a carving of a deer with delicate antlers. Waverly smiled, knowing it was her buck, _their_ buck.

            “Thank you, Nicole, this must have taken you forever to craft,”

            “I thought you would like a little reminder,” Nicole smiled with her dimples on full force.            

            “It’s very sweet,” Waverly held the deer in her hands carefully and pressed it to her chest, “Now, go on, open yours,”

            Nicole carefully tore the brown paper off of the box Waverly handed her. Inside was a crocheted rug, larger than the one Waverly had loaned her.

            “Oh Waverly, did you make this?” Nicole asked.

            Waverly nodded, “I sure did. I want my rug back,” She let out a musical laugh.

            “Thank you, Waverly. It is lovely,” Nicole smiled.            

           

            As the night wound down Waverly stayed behind to help her sister clean up as Wyatt took Nicole home. She ached to kiss Nicole goodbye but knew it wasn’t an option.

            Despite her best efforts to avoid it, Waverly ended up alone with Bobo.

            “I heard you sent the Hardy boy packing,” He said snapping his teeth together, “Wouldn’t have anything to do with your new redhead friend, would it?”

            Waverly didn’t look up as she unwound the paper streamers from the banisters, “What on earth would Nicole have to do with it?”

            “Oh I don’t know,” He said wistfully, “But I do know… that I’ve seen how you two look at each other,”

            She continued to collect the paper streamers, “I have no idea what you are talking about,”

            “You know, you have gotten better at lying with age, I will give you that,” Bobo said before walking away.

 

            Nicole and Wyatt walked through the snow, checking the perimeter, before heading inside to check the house.

            “It looks clear,” Wyatt said.

            “Thank you, for helping me check it out and for having me along today,” Nicole said.

            Wyatt shifted from one foot to the other, “You are welcome. No one should be alone on Christmas,” He paused and tugged on the ends of his mustache, “Merry Christmas, Agent Haught,”

            “Merry Christmas,” Nicole responded as she walked Wyatt out the front door.

            Wyatt gave her a wave before riding away.

            Nicole replaced the rug on her floor with the new one Waverly had made for her. Nicole looked at and smiled.

            It was a fine Christmas, indeed.

           

           


	12. Chapter 12

            Dolls set a cup of coffee down on the table in front of Nicole.

            “Back to work,” Nicole said, leaning back into the armchair she occupied.

            “Yep, back to work,” Dolls sat down across from her, setting down two wanted posters.

            Nicole picked them up and studied them carefully.

            “We have Samuel Dean Blanchard and Harvey Arthur Smith, lieutenants in the 5th Alabama Sharp Shooters. These two are dangerous men,” dolls warned, “We have to tread lightly. Play it smart. They have been seen not far from here, maybe thirty-seven miles away, a four-hour ride or so. Since the war, they have been spending their free time holding people up and robbing wagon trains,”

            Nicole set the posters down and took a sip of her coffee, “When do we go?”

            “Four days, if that works for you?”

            “Yes, of course, I will get ready,” Nicole nodded.

            “Nicole,” Dolls leaned forward, “I know you and Waverly Earp are… close,”

            “We are good friends,” Nicole said.

            Dolls nodded, “Right. I know you guys are good friends. And I know you haven’t told her anything about what we do, correct?”

            “Oh of course not, you know me well enough to know I can have close friends and be discreet,”

            Dolls nodded again, “Yes, but usually you don’t keep your close friends around this long. So I was just making sure,”

            “We don’t normally stay in one place this long,” Nicole countered.

            “Fair enough,” Dolls help up his hands in mock self-defense, “I was just checking in,”

           

            That night Waverly came to spend the night.

            “Dolls and I are leaving on Wednesday for a job. We will be gone for a couple of days,” Nicole said over dinner.

            “Please be safe,” Waverly said.

            Nicole had been steadfast in not telling Waverly what she did, but in their short time together, it was clear to Waverly that whatever it was, it was very dangerous.

            “We always try our best,” Nicole tried to sound reassuring. Her words fell hollow on Waverly, who only could feel a sense of dread as she cleared the table.

            Nicole wrapped her arms around Waverly’s waist as she scoured the dishes. She kissed the shorter woman’s cheek.

            “You seem tense,” Nicole said quietly, “I promise you, Dolls and I are seasoned. This is nothing different than what we usually do,”

            “You can say that all you want,” Waverly continued to scrub, maybe too hard, “But it doesn’t make me worry less,”

            “I know,” Nicole gave her a slight squeeze, “I know,”

            Waverly dried her hands with a dishrag, “ It’s just, I _like_ you a lot. It would kill me if anything happened to you,”

            Waverly turned around in Nicole’s arms and kissed her gently.

            “I like you a lot too,” Nicole brushed loose strands of hair behind Waverly’s ear.

            “The thought of you in harm's way makes me sick,” Waverly leaned into Nicole’s body, letting the taller woman hold her tight.

            Nicole kissed the top of her head. She wouldn’t admit that she felt the dread too.

           

            That night they laid in bed together, talking quietly and stealing kisses.

            Waverly lightly touched the chain around Nicole’s neck, turning the larger of the two rings on it over in between her fingers.

            “What are these?” She asked softly.

            “That was my brother's military service ring. He gave it to me before I left so that I could remember him,” Nicole said, gently taking the rings from Waverly’s grasp and pressing them to her lips. She silently said a prayer for her brothers, wherever either of them might be.

            “You are so beautiful, Nicole,” Waverly smiled sweetly at the read head.

            “In all of my travels, I’ve never met a woman as beautiful as you, Waverly Earp,” Nicole said, lightly touching the other woman’s face.

            Waverly connected their lips with intensity. With their lips connected Waverly rolled on top of Nicole.

            Nicole’s hands found their way to Waverly’s hips, pressing their bodies together. She ran her hands up her back, dragging her nails.

            Waverly kissed along Nicole’s jaw as she felt one of Nicole’s hands slip up her thigh, under her nightgown.

            Waverly pushed Nicole’s shirt off her shoulder and began kissing the exposed skin. She made a mental note to ask about the angry scar there, but for now, gently kissed it.

            Nicole’s whole body stiffened for a second. She quickly rolled them over, pulling the shirt back over her shoulder, covering the scar in the process. Nicole slowed their kissing down and pulled away slightly.

            “You are a dangerous woman,” Nicole said breathlessly.

            “How so?” Waverly stole another kiss.

            “There are so many things I would do…”

            “For me?” Waverly filled in the pause.

            Nicole cracked a lopsided smile, “Sure, that too,”

            Waverly felt the ache in her core that had become all too familiar around Nicole.

            “I feel things with you that I’ve never felt before,” Waverly said, pulling on her shirt lightly.

            Nicole kissed her softly before rolling to Waverly’s side. She took the pressure off while maintaining the contact, “I know. But I feel as though before we go any farther we should have a discussion,”

            Waverly was frustrated, she was sick of talk.

            “Ok, then let us have it,” She sat up slightly.

            “Ok,” Nicole mirrored Waverly’s posture, “I guess I just want to make sure we both want this and to make sure I’m not corrupting your soul,”

            “Trust me when I say I want this,” Waverly said as she took Nicole’s hand in her own.

            “It’s a hard road. Many people think people like me, people like us, are damned to Hell,”

            Waverly had never exactly fancied herself a believer. She went to church because it was what she was expected to do. But the Earps weren’t exactly a Godly clan. Even so, Waverly knew how others could perceive this.

            “Nicole, I can think of no one else I’d rather go to Hell with,” She kissed the back of Nicole’s hand.

            “I’m serious, Waverly,” Nicole almost sounded mad. Waverly looked into her eyes, seeing that maybe Nicole was one of those that believed. She recognized self-hatred, shame, and fear in Nicole’s eyes.

            “On the contrary,” Waverly said, “I take it very seriously. The thought of spending my life with Champ, or any other man for that matter, was suffocating. But when I’m with you, I feel free. I don’t feel as though you own me. I look forward to growing old, side by side, and to creating a life together, whatever that might have to look like,”  
            “I am not easy to love,” Nicole warned.

            “That’s certainly not the truth. You are all too easy to love,”

            They both fell silent at the admission, the implication, of her words. Waverly blushed a deep red but used the moment to her advantage. She got out of the bed and did the only thing she could think of. She slipped out of her nightgown as gracefully as she could manage, revealing soft skin and nothing else before getting back into bed.

            “Waverly,” Nicole warned as the naked woman straddled her hips.

            “Enough discussions,” Waverly said as she leaned down to kiss Nicole as she slipped her hand under Nicole’s shirt.

            Soon they were just soft skin on soft skin, all tangled limbs, and soft moans. Nobody but the coyotes could hear the way Waverly called out into the night to a God she didn’t fully believe in.

 

 

            Leaving Waverly later that week was hard. She knew that relationships, of any kind, complicated her job, but she hadn’t expected the pull Waverly had on her heart as she loaded up the saddlebags on Gertie.

            Nicole and Dolls met outside of town before riding out. Despite the tug at her heart, this felt easy and natural. Riding through the barren plains with Dolls was second nature. They made quick time as they approached a town at the foot of the formidable Rocky Mountains. Once in town, they posed as travelers to do the recon necessary to locate the targets. Through careful questions and research, they learned that Blanchard and Smith set up camp outside of town on unclaimed land.

            The Marshals opted to put the town between themselves and the two sharpshooters, in hopes of avoiding running into them before they were ready.

            Nicole set up a pup tent as Dolls tied out both horses to graze. They built a fire and cooked a meager meal that was reminiscent of the rations provided during the war.

            It made Nicole long for Waverly’s meals, and for her touch, that much more.

            “I think we should go in at dusk tomorrow evening,” Dolls said as he leaned back against a western saddle atop a wool army blanket.

            “Agreed,” Nicole nodded, “How do you want this to go down?”

            “We really can’t afford letting either of them get a draw on us. We almost have to take them out simultaneously,”

            Nicole nodded, pushing a hot coal around with the stick in her hand.

            “What’s our contingency plan?”

            “Run,” Dolls said quietly, “You know our deal,”

            Nicole grimaced. Their deal was bullshit if she had a say. But he was the ranking officer, so to speak.

            They had agreed, many years ago, that if one is mortally wounded that the other would save themselves. She knew then, and she knew now, that there was no way she would ever be able to hold up her end of the deal. She selfishly hoped he wouldn’t be able to either.

            Nicole used her stick to draw out a diagram of a camp.

            Dolls sat up, “this is dependant on how they operate. If they both are just kicking around we can take both out from distance. If they have one running sentry, we will have to kill him quietly before taking the other,”

            “Of course,” Nicole brushed the diagram away with the toe of her boot.

            Dolls leaned forward, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. He looked at his partner closely.

            “You look sad. Usually, you are thrilled to be out here,” he observed.

            Nicole shivered as the winter wind bit through her coat, “I usually am, but you were right,”

            “I usually am, you will have to be more specific,” he cracked a rare smile.

            Nicole couldn’t help but smile back, “When we first started on this journey together you told me that relationships of any kind complicated this. That it was best to keep people at an arm's length. And you were right,”

            “Is this about Ms. Waverly Earp?”

            Nicole nodded, “When I left home in ’61 I felt no regret, no sorrow. I was afraid, but only because I had never been off on my own before. And when I left my family again I only wished I could have brought my brother with us. But leaving Waverly behind?” Nicole let out a low whistle, “It hurts in here,” She said pointing at her chest.

            Dolls looked into the dancing flames of the campfire, “I know that pain,”

            Nicole’s eyes grew wide. In all their years together Dolls had revealed next to no personal details to her.

            “My wife and son were ripped from me before the war. They were sold off. I swore I’d find them after the war but I had no leads and I was offered this opportunity… the decision was obvious,”

            “What were their names?” Nicole asked softly.

            “Mary and Sable. My sweet boy was but a babe when I saw him last,” Dolls sat up straight, “But that is in the past now,”

            The rare moment of vulnerability was gone, he was back to his ironclad self, “It’s hard, but you have to set that part of yourself aside,”

            Nicole nodded, “You know, I tried hard to fight it. I knew it would be hard, that it would put her and myself in danger,”

            Dolls gave her a sideways look, “The heart wants what the heart wants,”

            “That is the truth,”

            He softened a bit once again, “I pray that we are out of a job one day soon. I pray that we can live our lives in relative peace. I feel as though we have earned it at this point,”

            “As do I,”

            Later that night Nicole lay awake in her pup tent, tucked into her sleeping roll. She thought about what Dolls had said, acutely aware that that was the most he had ever spoken of his past, with the exception of war stories.

            The yipping of coyotes in the distance made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.


	13. Chapter 13

            Dolls and Nicole stalked through the woods. Dolls had his rifle slung across his back and his revolver unholstered. Nicole had her rifle loaded and ready to fire.

            The camp was nestled in the woods and Dolls and Nicole were perched on the high ground on the north end of the camp. They observed their targets as the sun began to go down.

            There was a canvas tent and a fire a few feet from each other. Smith was walking around the camp, clearly keeping an eye out. Smith went to the tent, poking his head in. They couldn’t hear what was being said but could hear talking.

            “I’ll get the squirrels on for dinner,” Smith grunted as he stood up, letting the tent flap fall closed. He had four dead squirrels off to the side and he began cleaning them to put them on the fire.

            “Looks like one is in the tent, one cooking,” Dolls whispered.

            “I will go down take out Smith, you follow close behind to provide back up. Then we take Blanchard,”

            Dolls nodded. They waited for Smith to begin cooking the small game before moving down to the tree line. Nicole rested her rifle against the tree and drew her large hunting knife.

            She crept towards Smith from behind, toeing the line between moving too slow and making too much noise.

            Nicole quickly grabbed him from behind, slitting his throat before he could even make a sound in surprise.

            “Nicole!” Dolls called as he came crashing through the underbrush with his revolver drawn.

            Nicole let Smith’s body drop and spun around.

            She felt the searing pain of a knife sliding into her gut before she saw the scruffy faced man behind the blade.

            Blanchard got in two more jabs with the knife; leaving Nicole doubled over and clutched her torso.

            She heard a shot ring out as she fell to the ground. The world was spinning, but Dolls must have missed because Blanchard was running.           

            Dolls stopped over her but she waved him on, “Go, I’ll be fine,” Nicole watched him look back at her once more before chasing the man into the woods at a dead sprint.

            Nicole wanted to close her eyes. She knew it would be so much easier if she just let herself fall asleep. She fought the urge, “Get up Haught,” She said through gritted teeth to herself. She got to her knees and grunted as she stood. She stumbled and fell, feeling light headed.

            Nicole got back up again, trying to hold pressure to her wounds while stumbling through the under brush with the limited light of the nearly full moon.

            She made it back to Gertie. She leaned against the mare for a second, steeling herself against the pain. It was coming in waves, going from excruciating to unbearable.

            “Ok, Gertrude. You got to get me back to Purgatory,”

            Nicole took as deep of a breath as she could muster and counted to three before hoisting herself up into the saddle.

            She barely held on while Gertie galloped towards Purgatory. She prayed the horse had some sense of where home was.

            Her grip on the saddle horn began to loosen just as Purgatory came into view. She knew she didn’t have long, and she knew she was too close to let go now. If she fell of the horse here, there was no way someone would find her in time.

            Nicole slid off Gertie just outside of Shorty’s, she stumbled into the saloon, the pain and blood loss becoming too much.

            Waverly rushed over, “Oh my God, what happened?”

            “Hunting accident in the woods,” Nicole said through gritted teeth.           

            Waverly pressed her bar cloth to the wounds, “What really happened?”

  
            “I already told you,” Nicole was fighting to keep her eyes open.

            “This was no accident,”

            “Do you really want to have this conversation right now?” Nicole said at her wits end.

            “I’ll get Doc,” Waverly disappeared behind the bar.

            Doc came out, situating his black felt hat on his head.

            “Can you help her?” Waverly asked anxiously.

            “I’m not actually a doctor, I’m a dentist,” he said resting his hands on the butts of his holstered pistols.

            “You are her only option right now,” Waverly pleaded.

            “Oh hell,” Doc rolled his eyes in a way that involved his whole body.

            He pulled out a medical kit from behind the bar and used alcohol to sterilize his tools. He handed Nicole a bottle of whiskey to swig from and rolled up his sleeves.

            They got her up on the table as she started to pass out form the pain and the blood loss.

           

 

            Waverly and Doc got her back to her cabin and situated in bed. Waverly couldn’t help but pace back and forth, watching the labored way Nicole’s chest rose and fell. She was pale, a sheen of sweat made her look dewy. Waverly didn’t like how not ok she looked.            

            “There is no way this was a hunting accident,”

            “It is rare that you accidentally get stabbed three times, accidentally,” Doc confirmed.

            He looked around the room and noticed the box on the bookshelf in the corner. He started riffling through her personal effects, looking for any clue as to what she was really up to.

            “What are you doing?” Waverly demanded.

            “You want answers, don’t you?” He shuffled through papers, “When I took off her shirt she had a healed gunshot wound on her left shoulder,”

            He filed through the papers and photos some more before finding what he was looking for, “Just as I thought,”

            Doc showed Waverly an old Union Army payroll check made out to a “Nicolas Haught,”

            “What is this?” Waverly asked, confused.

            “Either Nicole had a brother, whom her parents humorously named similar to her, or Nicole served in the Union Army,”

            Waverly sat down. She thought back to the Union stamped pocket knife, the brass spyglass, the army rings on her neck, and her singing of old war songs. Nicole’s secrecy about how Dolls found her made sense.

            “Why would she lie about who she is?” Waverly asked. She knew it was logical, that Nicole’s half-truths served an important purpose. But she couldn’t stop the cascade of hurt happening inside of her heart.

            Doc returned Nicole’s things to the box and turned to look at Waverly.

            “Now Waverly, she never lied to you. She made a point to not tell us what she did before,”

            “I mean I guess,” Waverly crossed her arms, “It’s just, I feel like I thought I knew almost everything about her, and now I find this out. It’s like she’s a stranger,”

            Doc walked over and rested his hand on Waverly’s shoulder, “Dear Waverly. She is the same Nicole we all know to be kind, and selfless for the community and whom we shared a wonderful Christmas with,”

            “Doc, is she going to make it?” Waverly asked.

            “I did the best I could,” Doc said, “but she lost a lot of blood, she was nearly hypothermic, and the stab wounds were deep,”

            “I don’t think I can lose her,” Waverly admitted quietly.

            Doc looked back and forth between the unconscious Nicole and Waverly, a girl he had watched grown up. He could see the way she looked at Nicole.

            “She’s not going anywhere,” He knelt down and hugged Waverly tightly.           

            The pair paced back and forth as they waited to see how Nicole would pull through.

            As the evening stretched on Waverly pulled up a chair to Nicole’s bedside and held her hand. She occasionally would use a wet cloth to wipe away sweat on Nicole’s forehead.

            Doc left to go get Wyatt. An hour later he brought back Wyatt and Wynonna to help. Wynonna bustled around cleaning and cooking a meal for the others while Wyatt and Doc sat out in the living room and talked quietly to themselves.

            Nicole started to stir awake and Waverly got Doc.

            “She’s in quite a bit of pain,” Doc said as he felt her pulse.

            “Waverly,” Nicole called out, still mostly asleep.

            “I’m going to give her another dose of laudanum to help her sleep comfortably,” Doc said, pulling a small dropper bottle out of his medicine bag.

            Nicole’s restless struggles in the bed quieted and her breathing slowed. Waverly could feel the pin pricks of tears in her eyes. This was harder than she would have ever imagined.

            Doc left the room and Wynonna took her place. She knelt next to Waverly and put her hand on Waverly’s shoulder.

            “Hey baby girl,” Wynonna wiped a stray tear from Waverly’s eyes.

            “Doc said she’s probably going to be ok,” Wynonna reassured her.           

            “It’s just so hard to see her in this much pain,” Waverly wiped at her eyes.

            “I know, I know,” Wynonna said, “But she is one bad ass woman, and she will pull through this,”

            Waverly let out a chuckle, “Yeah, she is,”

            Wynonna wrapped her arms around her little sister, squeezing her tight.

           

 

            The next morning Wynonna and Wyatt left. Wynonna had to go clean up the saloon after the night’s impromptu surgery. Wyatt had to go tend to sheriff’s matters. Doc and Waverly kept vigil over Nicole, changing her bandages and keeping them clean.

            She continued to fade in and out for the better part of two days. Wyatt, Doc, and Wynonna all did shifts over at the Haught property, but Waverly always stayed at Nicole’s side.

 

            This time when Nicole started to wake up they decided to let her wake up. She was restless, but seemed to be slightly less in pain this time, enough so that Doc didn’t feel the need to knock her back out.

            “Good morning Sergeant Nicolas Haught,” Doc said from the foot of her bed as she woke up.

            “What?” Nicole said through the fog of sleep, pain and opiates.

            “You had us worried,” Waverly said, holding her hand tightly.           

            Nicole’s eyes were finally able to focus on something, and she smiled when she finally saw Waverly’s face.

            “Hey, Waves,” Nicole said. The haze lead her to let the affectionate nickname slip.

            “You were stabbed multiple times,” Waverly said, pushing hair back off her forehead, “Doc was able to stop the bleeding,”

            Nicole nodded her head. She took a sip of the water offered to her. The pain in her abdomen was all encompassing. It came in waves, going from a dull throb to a sharp intense pain.

            “It’s time to tell us what happened? This was not an accident,” Waverly said.

            Nicole grimaced, “Did Doc call me Sergeant Haught? Did you guys go through my things?”

            “Doc did,” Waverly admitted, “But only to confirm his suspicions,”

            Nicole sighed and road another wave of pain.

            “How long was I out?” Nicole asked.

            “About two days,” Doc gruffed.

            “Has Dolls returned?” Nicole asked.

            “Should we be expecting him?” Doc asked.

            “Yes, we had been a four hours ride from here and he should have returned the same night as myself, unless he’s looking for me or hurt or worse,”

            “I’ll get Wyatt, we will ride out and look for him,” Doc said, “Please make sure to get her clean bandages before nightfall,”

            Doc left the two women together.

            “Nicole, if you are feeling well enough, we need to talk,” Waverly said in a serious tone.

            “If Dolls is still alive, he’s going to kill me when he finds out I divulged this to you,” Nicole lamented, “Do you want the long version or the short version?”

            “Who are you, really? And what do you actually do?”

            “I’ve never lied to you,” Nicole warned, “I’m Nicole Rayleigh Haught. I was born January 5th, 1843 in the Wisconsin territory. My dad worked in the sawmills in Wausau when I was growing up. When the Civil War broke out, my oldest brother left to fight for the Confederacy and my second oldest brother, David, left to fight for the Union. I couldn’t stand the thought of staying in Wausau. So I stole one of my parent’s horses and rode down to Madison to join the army, posing as Nicolas Raymond Haught. I was able to hide who I was and fought in the 7th Wisconsin Infantry. We fought in Antietam and Gettysburg and I ended up getting wounded in Cold Harbor. When I got shot, I got found out and mustered out,”

            “Nicole,” Waverly reached out and held her hand.

            “I went home briefly, but I couldn’t stand the thought of pretending the previous three years hadn’t happened and my parents expected me to pretend it never happened and to marry,”

            Nicole was tired. She fought through another wave of pain that distracted her from her train of thought.

            “And that’s why you came here?”

            “Yes and no. Dolls had heard of my reputation. I had climbed the ranks in my regiment and was well known. He came to recruit me for his special task force because of my specific set of skills,”

            “Which is?” Waverly asked.

            Nicole closed her eyes, breathing through another wave of pain, “Waverly, what I do is dangerous. I didn’t lie to you; I was hunting with Dolls. We hunt Confederate soldiers, generals, and politicians who ran to Canada to hide who they are and what they did,”

            Waverly let go of Nicole’s hand, “You’re a bounty hunter?”

            “I knew there was one thing I was good at. One thing I could do no matter what, and that was kill Confederates,”

            Waverly breathed out through her nose, “Wow,”

            “Do you hate me for it?” Nicole could see the fear in the way Waverly looked at her. She could feel the tears at the back of her eyes, and not just from the pain in her gut.

            Waverly took Nicole’s hand and gently pressed her lips to the back of Nicole’s hand.

            “I do not think I could ever hate you, Nicole Haught, she laced her fingers with Nicole’s, “I just worried for you,”

            Nicole reached across and put her free hand on top of their intertwined hands reassuringly, “And that’s partly why I didn’t want to tell you,”

            Waverly stood and leaned down, kissing Nicole gently, “I know,”

            “I am sorry, Waves, I’m so sorry I had to hide that from you,”

           

            Later that night Waverly changed Nicole’s bandages. It was harder to do with her awake, because Waverly could hear the whimpers of pain and see the discomfort on her face.

            When Nicole fell back asleep Waverly crawled into bed next to her, holding Nicole close through the night.

           

 


	14. Chapter 14

            Doc collected Wyatt and they rode out to the town Nicole had described to Doc. The pair easily found the camp. A fire pit was left smoldering and a body laid nearby.

            “What were they doing out here?” Wyatt asked.

            Doc examined the body of the man on the ground. Nearby a grey wool forage cap lay on the ground. Doc unsheathed the knife on the man’s belt, a Confederate-made bowie knife.

            “I’m not sure, but I may be able to find out,” Doc entered the tent, kneeling to go through the contents of a saddlebag. He found a leather-bound journal, ammunition and some paper Confederate State’s of America bank notes. A picture was beginning to come together, but Doc wasn’t one to jump to conclusions.

            He looked around the site, “There were two camped here. One is clearly deceased. We can assume Dolls ran after the second. They ran this way,” Doc started following the tracks.

            “They are running,” Doc said as they followed the pair of footprints.            

            They came to a thick patch of underbrush. Doc stopped. To the unfamiliar, it would look as though Doc had lost the trail, but Wyatt knew better. Wyatt had followed his friend on a track enough times to know John Henry never lost the trial.

            “They went this way,” Doc pointed to some snapped twigs.

            Half an hour later the tracks lead them to a body face down. Wyatt rolled him over. It wasn’t Dolls, but a scruffy-faced man. The ground around the body showed the signs of a struggle and the man looked to have been strangled to death. Doc spotted a tear in the sleeve of his shirt that framed a gunshot wound.

            Wyatt looked around and found a revolver laying a few feet away. He picked up the firearm and pulled out the cylinder.

            ‘There were two rounds fired,” Wyatt noted aloud.

            “Indeed,” Doc agreed as he looked over Wyatt’s shoulder.

            The tracks dropped to one set of footprints. Doc led them along, doubling back to the camp. Doc eventually was able to track Dolls back to the remnants of the marshal’s camp. It had clearly been packed up hastily.

            But that was where the footprints disappeared. It was hard to tell what was old and what was new and they couldn’t really distinguish between the two sets of horse prints.

            They went back into town and regrouped.

            “Let’s see if anyone saw him,” Doc suggested.

            They went into the first Saloon asking if the barkeep had seen anyone by Dolls description.

            “Ah yes,” the barkeep said. He had a thick Scottish accent, “tha two a them were in here but a few days ago. They were looking for two really unsavory fellas,”

            “But have you seen the man since then?” Doc asked.

            “Nah, I haven’t seen him,” he shook his head no as he polished a glass.

            The pair of lawmen left, walking outside in the bright winter morning.

            That was when they saw a man riding on a horse like a bat out of hell.

            “Is that?” Wyatt asked.

            “Why I do believe it is,” Doc said, using his hat in hand to flag down the man on the horse.

            The Deputy Marshal Dolls they were used to seeing was orderly, crisp uniform, and all but emotionless. But the man pulling his horse to a stop in front of them was anything but. His hat sat haphazardly on his head, his coat fluttered open to reveal a torn and tattered shirt. He was covered in dirt and dried mud. He was even missing a boot. He looked scared and worried, one of his eye puffy and bruised.

            But it was unmistakably Dolls.

            “Have you guys seen Special Agent Haught?” he huffed.

            “Yes, she is wounded, but safely in her home being tended to by Ms. Waverly. We were looking for you,”

            Dolls let out an audible sigh of relief, physically relaxing, “After everything went to shit I had to track that damn hayseed down. I tried to double back and find Haught but I got turned around in the woods. Lord how I hate the woods,” Dolls shivered.

            “Well, rest assured, she managed to get herself back to Purgatory. I was able to patch her up to the best of my abilities and she is resting now,”

            “Thank the Lord,” Dolls said, “It nearly killed me to leave her there. She is the closest thing to family I have left,”  
            Wyatt looked at the disheveled man in front of him with empathy, “Water your horse. We will take you to see her,”

            The trio rode back to Purgatory in good time.

            “I will go get cleaned up, but I will stop by before supper to see Nicole,” Dolls said as they got into town.

            “I’ll let her know,” Doc tipped his hat.

            Wyatt stayed in town to deal with some local matters and Doc returned to the Haught homestead. Doc entered the quiet house and found Waverly curled into Nicole’s side, fast asleep. He gently woke Waverly, a look of sympathy on his face.

            “We found Dolls, he’s ok. Let's make something for Nicole to eat when she wakes back up. He will be coming by soon to see her,” he whispered.

            Waverly got out the bed as quickly as she could without waking Nicole. She was both embarrassed and uncertain about having been caught laying with Nicole.

            “I’ll fix something,” Waverly said as she smoothed her hair down and bustled into the kitchen.

            Doc checked Nicole for a fever before quietly closing the door behind him, letting her rest up.

 

            Later that evening Waverly woke Nicole up gently to eat some soup.

            “Thanks, Waves,” Nicole took a sip of the soup.

            “Doc is here. They found Dolls. He’s ok,” she said.

            “That’s a relief, where is he?” She asked, sitting up slightly.

            “I guess he was getting cleaned up. He got turned around in the woods,”

            “Damn it,” Nicole had all but forgotten about the soup, “I should have never let him run into those woods. He hates the woods,”

            Waverly took a seat next to Nicole, “The important thing is that he is safe. Please, eat, you need your strength,” Waverly encouraged Nicole.

            Nicole took another spoonful and tried to relax into the warmth of it. But the pain and anxiety over Dolls had Nicole on edge.

            They heard a commotion at the front of the house and Waverly stood, “I bet that’s Dolls, I’ll go get him,”

            Waverly left the room and returned with a wild-eyed Dolls.

            “Agent Haught,” he greeted her, stepping hastily to her bedside. Waverly slowly backed out of the room to give them privacy.

            “Hey Dolls,” She set down her spoon.

            “I am sure glad you are ok,” he said, a rare moment of emotion from him.

            “As I am that you are,” Nicole nodded.

            “I was able to get the second target, but I got terribly turned around in the woods when I tried to double back for you. The best I was able to do was hunker down and wait for sunup,”

            “Oh Dolls, that must have been horrible,” Nicole said softly.

            “It was, but not as horrible as the fact that you had to get yourself back to Purgatory and find help, I’m so sorry,”           

            “Nonsense, we have an agreement. Plus I was well enough to make it, and Doc and Waverly patched me right up,”

            “How bad is it?” He asked.

            “Well, only slightly worse than being shot. Doc said I lost a lot of blood and that I was touch and go for a bit. But I’m alive. It hurts like all hell though,”

            “I don’t doubt that,” Dolls smiled down at her, “I must ask, how much did you divulge when asked what happened?”

            Nicole’s face betrayed her guilt before her words did, “I told Waverly everything. I feel it’s what she deserved after I stumbled into her bar covered in blood and nearly dead. But I didn’t tell Doc anything more than what he already had figured out. HE went through my things and found out about my involvement in the war,”

            Dolls swore to himself, “I guess under the circumstances I cannot blame you for telling Waverly. Going forward Sheriff Earp and Doc are on a need to know basis,”

            “I’m going to predict that they will think they are a bit more need to know than you might,” Nicole offered a small smile.

            “You may be right about that,” Dolls nodded. He suddenly looked as though he remembered who he was and became rigid again, “I’ll leave you be. You must be exhausted. I’ll be by to check on you in a day or two. I’m really glad you are ok,”

           

            Once Dolls left Doc came in Nicole’s room, taking her now empty soup bowl and setting it to the side before sitting down with her, “So, why did you guys tell us you were bounty hunters?”

            Nicole’s kneejerk reaction was to deny but she knew her goose was cooked, “Did Waverly tell you?”

            Doc shook his head, “She would never betray your confidence like that. I am merely a skilled investigator and figured it out. Not that it was that hard, you guys did leave behind two bodies,”

            “Dolls didn’t clean up? He really was spooked by those woods,” She shook her head, “We are usually much more discrete,”

            Doc nodded, “I’m sure of it. Somehow I think being stabbed multiple times can really throw you off,”

            “You can say that again,” Nicole sighed.

            “Speaking of, how are you feeling? I know you are putting on a brave face for Ms. Waverly,”

            Nicole sighed and let just a sliver of the pain she was feeling show on her face, “I can handle it I think,” She said, “But its intolerable at moments,”

            “Wyatt and I discussed her moving in with you to help you along the recovery, so you will have to stop protecting her at some point,”

            “What makes you think I’m trying to protect her?”

            Doc scooted a bit closer, “If I may be frank, I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. I am not one to judge people, and I’ve other friends of similar proclivities. I do not mean to be forward or brash, but I can see that that girl loves you,”

            Nicole blushed deeply, “We are close, yes. I do hope you will understand our request for discretion,”

            Doc nodded, “But of course,”

            “I know I’m followed by whispers and odd looks everywhere I go but I would never forgive myself if I let poor Waverly be marred by the same treatment,”

            Doc nodded again, “I understand,” he stood, “I’m going to go, you need your rest,”

            Doc bid her goodbye and Nicole relaxed into the pillows. She wasn’t really sure how everything fell apart so quickly. Nicole hated feeling so out of control of what was happening to her.

            Waverly came in and sat next to her in the spot previously occupied by Doc.

            “Hey,” She said, taking Nicole’s hand in hers.

            “Hey,” Nicole said back. She bit her lip as a wave of pain washed over her.

            Waverly reached over and took her hand, “How are you doing?”

            “I’m fine,” Nicole forced a smile.

            “No you aren’t,” Waverly said sternly, “You don’t have to pretend,”

            “It is nothing I won't survive,” Nicole argued.

            “Please just be honest with me,”

            “Do you want to hear that it’s the worst pain I’ve ever been in, is that what you want?” Nicole’s voice came across defeated, as though she was barely hanging on.

            “No, but I appreciate the honesty. Would you like some painkillers and to go to bed?” Waverly asked.

            “Yes, but first I must use the privy,” Nicole said, unable to make eye contact.

            “Oh, yes,” Waverly stood, “I’ll get the chamber pot, I doubt you are making it out to the latrine,”

            “I’m afraid I will need help getting situated,” Nicole continued to look down.

            Waverly wordlessly helped Nicole undress and relieve herself, departing only to empty the chamber pot outside.

            Once back Waverly gave Nicole a dose of painkillers and changed her bandages.

            “Nicole, look at me,” Waverly said as she returned the woman’s shirt to its original position. Nicole hadn’t made eye contact once during the encounter.

            “Hey,” Waverly tilted Nicole’s head with her finger, “It’s ok,”

            “It’s embarrassing,” Nicole said.

            Waverly shook her head, “It’s not that bad. I’m not bothered by it one bit. You need help right now and I am willing and able to provide it,”

            “It’s just, I don’t want you to see me improper like,” Nicole admitted.

            Waverly smiled softly, “It doesn’t change how I see you in the slightest,”

            Waverly kissed Nicole lightly before changing into her sleeping clothes. She bustled around, preparing for bed while Nicole felt herself getting sleepy as the pain medicine kicked in.

            Waverly climbed into bed with Nicole, careful not disturb her bandages.

            “Goodnight Nicole,” Waverly whispered.

            “Goodnight, Waves,” Nicole said in a dreamy tone.

           

           

 


	15. Chapter 15

            In the following week, Nicole was all but bedridden. The act of standing caused Nicole excruciating pain. There were points were Nicole couldn’t decide what hurt worse, her abdomen or her pride. She had always been very self-sufficient, but she couldn’t even do the most basic things for herself. As grateful was Nicole was for Waverly, she couldn’t stand not being able to do things for herself. As a result, Nicole could feel her mood growing sour.

            Nicole was laying in bed and moved to sit up more, the task was slow and laborious, but something she could do.

            “Oh, Nicole let me help,” Waverly rushed over.

            “Don’t,” Nicole bit out, “I can do this,”

            Waverly recoiled at the venom in her love's words, “ok,” she said dejectedly.

            Once situated Nicole softened, “I’m sorry, it’s just…” She wasn’t sure how to say what she felt.

            “No I get it,” Waverly held up her hand.

            “Waverly, I’m sorry. It’s just I am not used to needing help. I hate that I can’t do things on my own, but…” She reached out for Waverly’s hand, “I’m glad you are here to help me,”

            Waverly’s hard expression faltered and she let a smile slip, “I’m glad I’m here to help you, who knows what state you would be in at this point if I wasn’t around,”

            “I firmly believe I wouldn’t be alive today if it wasn’t for you,” Nicole said.

            Waverly leaned down and kissed Nicole gently. She knew she loved this woman. She couldn’t explain it, and she had never dreamed anything like this would happen, but she adored the woman.

            “You know I would do anything for you,” Waverly said sincerely.

            Nicole nodded, “You are an angel,”

            That night Waverly helped Nicole out to the table to eat dinner, trying to get Nicole back into a normal routine. Per Doc’s orders, Nicole was still only allowed to eat semi-solid foods, so Waverly made hearty vegetable soup in chicken stock.

            “I cannot wait to eat solid food again. I think I will have to forgo soup for a couple of months,”

            Waverly gave Nicole a sympathetic look, “ I won’t blame you,”

            “I, of course, don’t mean that as a reflection of your cooking, I just miss actually chewing my food,”

            “Trust me, I get it,” Waverly reassured her.

            Sitting up and eating all but exhausted Nicole. Waverly helped Nicole back to bed and got her settled in.

            “I’ve got to go clean up dinner, but then we can get ready for bed,” Waverly kissed her forehead.

            “Thanks, sweetheart,” Nicole watched Waverly walk out of the room.

            Nicole reached for her journal on the bedside table and began writing her nightly entry. When Waverly came back in Nicole set her things aside and they began their new nightly routine. Waverly helped Nicole undress. She then cleaned and redressed Nicole’s wound before redressing her.

            Waverly changed and got into bed next to Nicole. She kissed the redhead before laying into her side.

            Nicole longed for Waverly’s touch, but she was exhausted and in pain. She settled for kissing the top of Waverly’s head before falling asleep.

 

            A few days later Waverly had Nicole propped up on the couch as she cleaned the house when they heard a horse approaching. Waverly looked out the window to see Doc coming up the road.

            When he entered he tipped his hat to Nicole, “Good afternoon, Agent Haught, how are you feeling?”

            “Better every day. I still feel pretty weak,”

            “I’m afraid that may persist for a while. It will take you a long time before you begin to regain your strength enough to resume your normal activity,”

            “Can I please start solid foods soon?” Nicole pleaded.

            He studied her wound and dressing, “If you haven’t been having any issues with food or eliminations I don’t see why you can't add some solid foods in, but do it slowly,” he warned, “You seem to be healing up well. I’m sorry my suture job isn’t pretty, you will have an ugly scar,”

            Nicole waved him off, “You saved my life, I think I can manage. It will just match my shoulder,”

            “That army doc did a butcher job on that repair,” he agreed.           

            “I didn’t just come to check on my patient here. I needed to ask a favor of you, Miss Waverly,”

            “What is it Doc?” Waverly asked, resting her hands on her hips.

            “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to, but I desperately need your help tomorrow at the saloon. I have to help Wyatt and there is no one to open the saloon,”

            “I would love to, but Nicole still needs a lot of help,”

            “I can arrange to send Wynonna over. I would just have her open the saloon but she doesn’t like bartending and would probably just close up shop, which I cannot afford,”

            “That would work,” Waverly agreed, “What do you think, Nicole?”

            “I think I don’t need a babysitter,” Nicole huffed, “I would do just fine on my own,”

            “Is that so?” Waverly asked, “Then go on, prove it,”

            Doc cocked an eyebrow and looked back and forth between the women, “I think that’s a fine idea,”

            “What would you like me to do?” Nicole asked.

            “How about we start with just standing without help,” Waverly said, crossing her arms over her chest.

            Nicole positioned her body so that it was ready to stand. She grasped the armrest of the couch and the seat and attempted to push herself up. She felt light-headed but pushed through to the best of her ability. But her strength faltered and she ended up only standing halfway before having to sit back down.

            “I’m sorry Agent Haught, but I have to agree with Miss Waverly. You still need assistance with many tasks. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we would feel better if someone was here to help you,”

            “Fine I guess you may be right,” Nicole said, defeated.

            “I will drive Wynonna over before I leave with Wyatt and I will take you to Shorty’s in the morning. I hope you feel better, Agent Haught,” Doc bid the two women farewell.

            Nicole was grumpy the rest of the night. Waverly couldn’t blame her but was starting to get a bit frustrated with it all. In the morning she looked obviously frustrated.

            “Wynonna will be here soon. Do you want myself or her to dress you?”

            “I would prefer you do it,” Nicole said. She could feel the frustration bubble up and the sting of tears in her eyes.

            “I don’t need a baby sitter,” She protested.

            “I know,” Waverly said sympathetically as she dressed her, “but you also can barely stand on her own. I feel better knowing someone is here to help you. Wynonna is just here to keep you company and to help get you from place to place during the day,”

            “When will I finally be allowed to be on own?” Nicole lamented.

            “Once you aren’t at risk of keeling over from the exertion of standing,” Waverly said softly.           

            Shortly after Waverly had Nicole dressed, fed and situated in the living room, Wynonna arrived. Waverly ran Wynonna through all the things Nicole needed as Wynonna hung up her coat, Doc waiting outside.

            “Waverly, dear,” Wynonna placed a hand on her little sister's shoulder, “Nicole is a big girl, she can let me know what she needs and when she needs it. I’m just here to give her a hand,”

            “Thank you,” Nicole said.

            “We will have a fun and quiet day together,” Wynonna reassured.

            “Ok,” Waverly looked at both of them skeptically, “I’ll see you later,” She squeezed Nicole’s hand.

            Wynonna ushered her sister out the door and then turned around and looked at the redhead sitting on the couch.

            “She needs to relax,” Wynonna said, placing her hands on her hips.

            “I’ve been telling her that for a while now,” Nicole nodded.

            Wynonna walked over and sat down next to Nicole on the couch, careful not to wrinkle her dress, “How are you, really?”

            “I feel better every day,” Nicole said, “But I’m getting a little stir crazy,”

            “Well, you look much better than when I saw you last. You will be back on your feet in no time, I'm sure,”

            “I sure hope so,” Nicole shook her head, “I am very thankful for your sister’s help and care. She has gone above and beyond to help me, and I don’t wish to sound ungrateful, but I am not used to not being fully self-sufficient,”

            “I get that,” Wynonna nodded, “You and I are cut from the same cloth in that sense. I hate having to ask for help. I know it can be frustrating to rely on other people,”

            “It is the worst,”

            “And I know Waverly can be… smoothing when she is taking care of people she loves,”

            Nice nodded in agreement. _People she loves_. The implication of Wynonna’s words both excited and scared Nicole.

            “It’s not the smothering that bothers me, it is the fact that she has to take care of me at all,”

            “Doc didn’t tell me much, but he said you have been shot before. How was recovering from that compared to this?”

            Nicole shifted in her seat, “it was easier. I’m not sure if it was because I was in a hospital or because I was younger, or event the circumstances it happened under,”

            “How did it happen, if you don’t mind me asking?” Wynonna asked.

            Nicole paused, she was so used to keeping her cards close to her chest. She took a deep breath, knowing that anything short of the truth wasn’t really an option anymore.

            “When the War Between the States broke out I disguised myself as a man and fought for the Union, I was shot during the battle of Cold Harbor,”

            Wynonna looked shocked for approximately a second before regaining her composure, “That’s insane,”

            “I also didn’t have anyone who cared about me right there while I was recovering, so I could suffer and heal without feeling like a burden,”

            Wynonna nodded, “I can see how that makes a difference. Well, I’m here, not to smother but to help you when you need,”

            “Thank you, Wynonna,”

            “As a bonus, we get to spend some time getting to know each other better. Since it seems like you and Waverly have gotten close, I like to know the people she spends time with,” Wynonna said.

            Nicole swallowed hard, “I’m an open book,” she said less than confidently.

            “Relax,” Wynonna patted her knee before standing up, “This isn’t an interrogation,”

            Wynonna breezed into the kitchen as though she had lived in the house for decades and poured them each a glass of water, “Doc mentioned that its important I make sure you stay hydrated,” she explained as she handed Nicole a glass of water.

            “Thank you,” Nicole took an obligatory sip before setting it down on the side table next to her, resting against the back and armrest.

            “Ya know, as much time as you and Waverly spend together she’s told me almost nothing about you,” Wynonna said.

            That stung a bit more than Nicole would like to admit. She knew Waverly was probably just being careful, not wanting to reveal too much and accidentally reveal the nature of their relationship. But the idea that her sister didn’t know much about her made Nicole’s heart hurt in ways it never had before.

            “Hmm well I guess I hadn’t always been forthcoming with Waverly about I was, that probably didn’t help,”

            “What do you mean?” Wynonna asked skeptically.

            Nicole shook her head, “Until this,” She motioned at her abdomen, “I had a very strict do not disclose policy about what I do for a living. By proxy, I couldn’t tell her about what I did in my past because they are related,”

            “Your military service is related to what you do now?”

            “Yes exactly,” Nicole took a deep breath, “Dolls really will kill me when he finds out I keep telling people. But we are bounty hunters for the US Government, under the US Marshal service, hunting down former Confederates who tried to escape to Canada,”

            “Jesus Christ,” Wynonna cursed, “Sorry I just didn’t realize I was sitting next to an assassin,”

            “I’m hardly an assassin,” Nicole scoffed.

            “Really? I’m not as book smart as Waverly is, but I’m pretty sure you murder political targets. That is almost the definition of an assassin,”

            Nicole looked away. _Murder_. She hated that word.

            “I don’t like to think about it as murder,”

            “I’m sure you don’t,” Wynonna agreed. Wynonna had a habit of being abrasive and insensitive and she could see the tears welling up in Nicole’s eyes, “But I also am marrying a lawman. Wyatt and Doc have killed far more people than I’m sure they feel comfortable revealing,”

            “I didn’t want to be a bounty hunter, but I also didn’t want to live the life that was expected of me,”

            Wynonna looked out the window wistfully, “I know that feeling,” she nodded.

            “Dolls and I are nearing the end of our contract. The US Government will decide if we get renewed and if it’s worth us continuing. We have been fairly prolific over the last three years,”

            “Is that why you guys have stayed in Purgatory?” Wynonna asked.

            “Yes, mostly because we have been on the move for more than six years. There is only so much of being a nomad that I can take,”

            “Do you plan to stay here, for longer than a year or two?” Wynonna asked.

            Nicole nodded, “I’ve found more than a fair share of reasons to stay,”

            Wynonna sat back a bit, her usually rigid spine getting impossibly more rigid somehow, “And my sister wouldn’t happen to have something to do with that, would she?”

            Nicole swallowed hard, “She has become a very good friend of mine,”

            “For an assassin, you are a coward,”

            “Excuse me?” Nicole was flabbergasted.

            “Come on, Red,” Wynonna chastised her, “That was your opportunity to be honest with me,”

            Nicole was offended, but also too exhausted to be on the offensive, “I have been honest with you,”

            Wynonna sighed, “I don’t condone it, but I also see the way my little sister looks at you. She thinks you hung the goddamn moon,”

            “I’m not really sure what you are trying to get from me here, maybe this is a conversation you should have with your sister,” Nicole warned. She felt cornered. She couldn’t get up and walk away, she couldn’t fight Wynonna and she couldn’t speak for Waverly.

            Wynonna softened, realizing she had gone directly against her promise that it wasn’t an interrogation, “I’m sorry. I just… I hate when she keeps secrets from me. You know, she never told me that Champ Hardy was courting her. She was afraid of what I would think. But I ultimately want to see her happy,”

            “That is definitely something you should tell her when you talk to her,” Nicole recommended.

            Wynonna smoothed the fabric over her legs, “How about some lunch?”

            Nicole took a deep breath as Wynonna stood up and started making lunch for the two of them. Nicole leaned back and tried to rest.

            They ate in silence at the kitchen table. Nicole wondered if her life would ever get easier or it would always be strained social interactions like this one.

            “Wynonna,” Nicole said as she started cleaning up the dishes.

            “Yes?” Wynonna bustled around.

            “I think I need to lay down for a spell,”

            “Yes of course,” Wynonna dried her hands before expertly helping Nicole to her feet, taking most of her weight as they walked to the bedroom. Wynonna helped her into the bed and got her settled in.

            “Your height is much more appropriate for helping move me than Waverly’s,” Nicole tiredly chuckled.

            “Willa and I are pretty tall, Mamma must have stacked books on poor Waverly’s head or something when we were little,”

            “Thank you for your help,” Nicole said.

            “You are welcome, get some rest,” Wynonna said before quietly leaving the room.

            This was the busiest morning Nicole had had in a long time and she could feel the sleep pulling at her eyelids.

 

            Wynonna was many things. She was known for being fiercely loyal to those she loved and caring for her baby sister above all else. But she also had a reputation in town for being a bit of a lush, for being rash and offensive. She wasn’t above stealing, snooping and scheming, especially if it was to protect those she loved.

            Wynonna wanted more answers than Nicole had offered. And What Nicole hadn’t noticed was the skilled way that Wynonna had tucked her journal in her waistband as she helped tuck Nicole in.

            Wynonna sat down and flipped through the leather-bound papers. She was surprised someone who was so careful about who knew even the most minute detail about her would write everything out so plainly in a journal.

            Wynonna read about assassinations and semi-graphic descriptions of trysts with women in far off plains towns and coastal cities. The tone shifted around the dates of when Nicole had moved to Purgatory. There were entries about the progress of the development of her land and of missing her brothers. The description of a beautiful girl that she was sure was far out of her reach. Wynonna read through a heart-wrenching self-exploration of how to curb her feelings, how to squash down who she was.

            _“I was so sure that the object of my affections would never understand or reciprocate. But today Waverly surprised me by kissing me. Not on the cheek but on the lips. As sweetly as the first taste of berry jam. I tried to apologize to her, but she stopped me by kissing me again. I could feel my heart sing at her touch,”_

            Wynonna thumbed through a few more pages, getting all she needed to confirm her suspicions. Once she was done she checked on Nicole, who was fast asleep. She returned the journal to the exact spot it had been before retreating back to the living room. Wynonna looked around the sparse cabin and noticed the small wooden box on the mantel. She reached for it, trying to open it but discovered it was locked.

            Wynonna quickly located a key ring hanging by the door and tried a handful of keys before realizing that the key wasn’t there. She remembered seeing a key on the necklace Nicole wore.

            “Damn it,” Wynonna said putting the key ring back. She knew it was probably for the best. She really shouldn’t be going through Nicole’s things like this. She rarely felt bad for the things she did, but she felt as though she had violated not only Nicole’s but her sister’s privacy too. She pushed up her sleeves and got back to cleaning up after lunch, mulling over the information she discovered.

            Once Nicole woke up, Wynonna brought Nicole back out to the table and a deck of cards out of her coat pocket. Nicole and Wynonna idly played cards as they waited for Waverly to return.

            “So, where in the States are you from?”

            “Wisconsin,” Nicole said simply.

            “What’s your family like?” Wynonna asked.

            Nicole shrugged, “My father worked cutting timber until he got injured. My oldest brother died during the war, my second oldest brother lost his arm. My younger brother has been sick, from the sounds of it,”

            “I’m sorry to hear that,” Wynonna said, “I’m sure Waverly has told you our Daddy died in the war too,”

            Nicole nodded, “She mentioned that,”

            “The last thing we wanted to do was move out to this wasteland,” Wynonna said, “But I met Doc. So I can’t be too mad about it,”

            “Why didn’t you just stay? You were an adult,”

            “I couldn’t imagine leaving Waverly alone. And Willa was already out here with our uncle, married to that fleabag, Bobo,”

            Nicole nodded. She won the hand and pumped her fist in celebration.

            “I guess you finally got the hang of it,” Wynonna scoffed. She perked back up when she heard the unmistakable sound of Doc’s horse coming down the road. Wynonna picked up the cards and got the door for her sister.

            “How was your day together?” Waverly asked as she hung up her coat.

            The two women shared a look, “Pretty decent I would say,” Nicole shrugged.

            “I fed her and let her take a nap, just like you asked,” Wynonna said as she slipped into her own coat.

            “We played cards for a while. It was a nice time,” Nicole smiled at Wynonna.

            “Thank you, Wynonna,” Waverly hugged her sister.

            “It was nothing. See ya later Red,” Wynonna waved goodbye to Nicole.

            “Bye,” Nicole called after her.

            Once Waverly was sure her sister was gone she turned to Nicole, “How was your day, baby?”  
            Waverly wrapped her arms around Nicole’s shoulders and kissed her cheek.

            “It was good. I wasn’t just lying because she was still here. She did grill me a bit, and I told her she had to talk to you,”

            Waverly turned pale, “What was she asking about?”

            “The nature of our relationship. She said she’s seen the way you look at me,” Nicole said.

            Waverly let go of Nicole before kneeling down so that she was on Nicole’s level. She wrapped her tight in her arms, kissing her briefly before resting her head on Nicole’s chest. Nicole held Waverly as tight as she could.

            “It sounds like we may have been found out,” Waverly said into Nicole’s chest.

            “Yeah, when she asked I said we were good friends and then she yelled at me for not being honest,” Nicole said, rubbing Waverly’s back.

            “I hate that she’s so damn smart,” Waverly said.

            “I’ll talk to her, but only if you are ok with me telling her,” Waverly said.

            “Absolutely. Just let me know what she says. Or if we need to get out of town,” Nicole said.

            “Hopefully it doesn’t come to that,” Waverly said, leaning back and looking Nicole in the eye.

            Nicole looked down at Waverly, searching her face for what she might not be saying.

            “Waverly, you don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to. I just don’t want you to feel forced,”

            “If I don’t tell Wynonna she will find it out through some other, unsavory means,” Waverly gave her a sad smile.

            “I guess you should tell her soon then,” Nicole said.

            I probably should,” Waverly grimaced, “If you are ready, let's get you back to bed,”

            “Wynonna and I were sitting for a long time playing cards, I would like that very much,” Nicole agreed.

            Waverly helped Nicole to bed before climbing in and snuggling with her, “I’ll get dinner going in a bit, I just missed you,”

            Nicole kissed the top of her head, “Can I tell you something?”

            “Of course,” Waverly said, looking up at the redhead.

            “I have never loved anyone the way I love you, Waverly Earp,”

            “I love you too, Nicole Haught,” Waverly said as a smile spread across her face.

           


End file.
